Bound by the Italian's Contract(33)
How stupid could she get! Luciano was nothing more than her business associate. Old friend. Never lover. Never. She willed that vow to embed itself in her mind and sucked in air, but that only drew the spicy scent of him deeper into her lungs and her blood.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She feared she’d never be all right again, but nodded. “I’m just anxious to see the design of your rifugio.” Anxious to get this leg over with, return to the lodge and have a moment’s peace without Luciano.
“Soon.”
* * *
Having dressed in appropriate gear, they arrived in a garage lined with a dazzling array of cars, all high octane and high dollar, she was certain.
Instead of going for the sedan they’d arrived in or the Land Rover, he ducked his head under the open canopy and swung his long, muscled leg over the black padded seat of an impressively large all-terrain vehicle. “Climb on. I would prefer getting there before it turns dark or storms.”
She looked at the sky and shivered. Though a good distance from them, a dark cloud bank was moments away from blocking out the sun and her avenue of daylight.
Being in the mountains after dark didn’t bother her nearly as much as the thought of getting caught out in bad weather. His handsome face, carved in impatient lines with a critical inspection of the rugged ATV tires, got her moving forward. She swung on behind him just as he fired up the powerful engine, sending an unsettling vibration through her nerves and her blood that she had so longed for.
“Is anything wrong?”
“Nothing. Hang on,” came his clipped order as he shifted gears and backed them from the massive garage.
Caprice spent a millisecond running her palms down the passenger grab bars before she pressed her spine against the plush seat back. The war between hanging on to to the bars or simply relishing reckless freedom darted within her.
Luciano barked an order. “Buckle up or hang on.”
His muscled physique was inviting. Too inviting.
She fastened the black web belt over her flat belly with a snap because she wasn’t about to wrap her arms around him. No matter the allure. No matter how much a part of her wanted to touch him, feel him, taste him. She wasn’t about to do any of that.
He gave her one quick look back before he sent the ATV in motion and took a trail that wound above the massive manicured lawn of the lodge to a rugged track that angled away from the ski village. The harsh beauty of the mountains called to her soul while the sensual pulse of the man before her threatened to tempt her heart.
In what seemed like moments, the ATV swerved and jolted up the uneven mountain trail that ran parallel to a rushing stream littered with rocks, climbing higher at an angle that took them so far from the ski village she couldn’t even see those roofs now. Each yard they traveled threatened to slam her against his broad back. She resisted, staying strong. Away from him.
The air was thinner at this elevation and deep snow still hid in crevices and shadowed nooks on the northern slopes high above the trail. Really, it was similar to the terrain in Colorado, where hearty trees struggled for survival on the unforgiving terrain of rocks and soil. The occasional alteration in the track below bore swaths that screamed danger, clear evidence of massive slides of soil and rock likely brought down the slope by heavy slabs of snow.
Her unease compounded as the wind tormented her with his spicy scent, forcing her to breathe him in with each breath she took, to feel the man on her skin and in her blood. The uneven terrain conspired against her battle to keep a careful distance.