Seaside Sunsets(53)

“Maybe I’m an interesting guy. Dae. D. A. E.,” he said, as if he had to spell it often, which she imagined he did. “Is this your first time in Tuscany?”

How could he be so casual, speak so easily, when her heart was doing flips in her chest? He didn’t have an ounce of tension anywhere in his body. He was all ease and comfort, his body moving fluidly as he shifted his position and leaned his sexy hip, clad in low-slung jeans, against the rail. When he crossed one ankle over the other and set his palms on the stone, his T-shirt clung to his wide chest, then followed his rippled abs in a sexy vee and disappeared beneath the waist of his jeans. Her eyes lingered there, desperately fighting to drop a little lower. It took all of her focus to ignore the heat spreading through her limbs and drag her eyes away.

“Yes.” Why does my voice sound breathy? She drew her shoulders back and met his gaze, forcing a modicum of control into her voice. “How about you?”

He shook his head, and his shiny dark hair fell in front of his eyes. One quick flick of his chin sent it off his face, giving her another brief look at his deep-set eyes, his rugged features, and the peppering of whiskers on his square jaw.

“It’s the first for me, too.”

Emily’s phone vibrated and Wes’s name flashed on the screen. She reached for it and read Wes’s message, desperately needing a distraction.

So glad. Be safe and have fun. You deserve it.

“Probably your husband wondering what you’re doing talking to some dude instead of taking a romantic stroll through the vineyards with him.” His eyes narrowed a hair, but that easy smile remained on his lips.

Emily met his gaze. “That would be a feat, considering I’m not married.” Not that she wouldn’t like to be. Recently, she’d watched four of her brothers fall head over heels in love. They hadn’t even been looking for love, and there she was, waiting to love and be loved and trying to keep the green-eyed monster inside her at bay. She was happy for them. She really was. But she couldn’t deny her desire to find that special someone who would cherish her for more than the Braden wealth. She’d come to accept that she wouldn’t find that in her small hometown. She’d buried herself in building a successful business to fill those lonely hours.

“Well, in that case, would you care to join me for a glass of wine?”

Before Emily could answer, another text came through from Wes.

Not TOO much fun! I’d hate to have to come all the way to Tuscany to pound some guy for taking advantage of my little sister.

Emily laughed, taking comfort in Wes’s overprotective nature. Somehow, it put her at ease. She slid her phone into her jeans pocket and smiled up at the gorgeous man beside her. She was thousands of miles from home in the most romantic place on earth. Why shouldn’t she have too much fun? She wondered what Wes considered too much fun and decided that, knowing her brother, holding hands with a guy was too much fun for his little sister. Maybe, just maybe, it was her turn to have fun.

Feeling emboldened, and a little rebellious, she lifted her chin and gave her best narrow-eyed gaze, which she hoped looked seductive, but she was sure it fell short. She didn’t have much practice at being a temptress. But a girl could try, couldn’t she?

“Sure. That sounds great.”

Dae pushed from the rail and reached for her hand. “Shall we?”

“Um…” Was that too familiar of a gesture? Had she given him too good of a look?

“I’m harmless. Just ask my sisters. But I’m also affectionate, so it’s a hand or an arm. Take your pick.”

“You have sisters?” Why did that make him seem safer? He reached for her hand, and damn if their palms didn’t fit together perfectly. His hand was warm and big, a little rough and calloused.

“Two. And two brothers. You?” He led her through the villa toward the kitchen. She was glad he didn’t release her hand when they reached the high-ceilinged kitchen, which smelled of fresh-baked bread. He surveyed the bottles in the built-in wine rack that was artfully nestled into the wall, pulling out one bottle after another and scrutinizing the labels until he found one he approved of.

“Five brothers. Um…Are we allowed to just take a bottle of wine?” Emily looked around the pristine kitchen. Colorful bricks formed an arch over recessed ovens and cooktops. A copper kettle sat atop one burner, and on either side of the ovens were built-in pantries in deep mahogany.

“They said to make myself at home.” Dae handed her a bottle, then led her past the large table that seated eight and an island equally as large. He reached into a glass cabinet on the far wall and retrieved two wineglasses.

He smiled a mischievous smile. “So…You’re a rule follower?” He narrowed his eyes as he opened the bottle of wine.

A rule follower? Am I? She had no idea if she was or wasn’t. She liked to joke and tease. Did that make her a rule breaker? Were there rules for thirtysomethings? A fleeting worry rose in her chest. What if he was a major rule breaker? What if he wanted her to do things she shouldn’t? She was a Braden, and her family was very well respected, and no matter where she was, she had a reputation to uphold, which somehow made the whole situation a little more tempting.

“Emily?”

Oh no. What if—

His hands on her upper arms pulled her from her thoughts, which were quickly spiraling out of control.

“Emily. Relax.” His hair curtained his eyes, but she caught a glimpse of his smile. “I was kidding.”

Now I look like a boring Goody-Two shoes. She rolled her eyes—more at herself than at him. Wes’s text must have subconsciously made her worry. Or maybe I really am a Goody-Two shoes who can take banter but not rule breaking. Boring with a capital B.

“Adelina told me to help myself to anything in the kitchen, including the wine. Day or night.”

He snatched her hand again and led her out a heavy wooden door and across the lawn.

“I’m sorry, Dae. I didn’t mean to seem like a buzzkill.”

“It’s okay. If you were my sister, I’d have hoped for that same careful reaction. You had the am-I-with-a-serial-killer look in your eyes.” He glanced at her and smiled.

“Yikes. That’s not very nice, is it?” She walked quickly in her heeled boots to keep up. Her eyes remained trained on the thick grass to keep from ogling Dae.

“I’m guessing that it has less to do with nice than to do with safety. Safety’s always a good thing.” He stopped short, and Emily bumped right into his side.

Their hips collided. Her hand instinctively rose to brace herself from falling, and the bottle of wine smacked against his chest, splashing wine on his T-shirt. He wrapped an arm around her back, bracing her against him.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.” Crap, crap, crap. She swiped at the wine on his shirt as she tried to ignore how good his impressive muscles felt.

“I’ve been impaled by worse.” He flashed that easy smile again, but his eyes darkened and filled with heat, and just like that, her knees weakened.

Damned knees. He tightened his grip on her. Damned smart knees.

Just when Emily was sure she’d stop breathing, he dropped his eyes to her boots. “Heels and grass don’t mix.”

She was still stuck on the feel of his arm around her and the quickening of her pulse.

“You okay?” he asked.

I don’t know. “Yes. Fine. Yes.”

He ran his thumb along her cheek, then licked a dash of wine that he’d wiped off with his thumb. “Mm. Good year.”

Holy crap.

His eyes went smoky and dark. She liked smoky and dark. A lot.

“Let’s sit. It’s safer.” He nodded toward his right.

Emily blinked away the crazy unfamiliar desire that had butterflies nesting in her belly and followed his eyes to an intimate stone patio built at the edge of the hill. Her eyes danced over the wisteria-laced trellis. Purple tendrils of flowers hung over the edges, and leaf-laden vines snaked up the columns.

“This is incredible.” Tree branches reached like long, arthritic fingers from the far side of a path at the top of the hill to the wisteria, creating a natural archway. Rustic planters spilled over with lush flowers, lining a low stone wall that bordered the patio.

Holding the wine and the glasses, Dae crooked out his elbow. “Hold on tight. Wouldn’t want you to stumble.”

She had the strange desire to press her body against his and let him wrap his safe, strong arm around her. Instead, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and wrapped it around his muscular forearm, wondering how a man could make her hot all over after only a few minutes.





DAE COULD PRACTICALLY see the gears turning in Emily’s head, and even in her befuddled state, she was sexier than any woman he’d ever met. She was slender, with gentle curves accentuated by her designer jeans and the tight white V-neck she wore under an open black cardigan. He stole a glance at her profile as she took in the patio. She had a cute upturned nose, high cheekbones, and long hair the same dark color as his, which he’d like to feel brushing his bare chest. She wore nearly no makeup, and as his eyes lingered on the sweet bow of her lips, the word stunning sailed into his mind. He had a feeling that when Emily Braden wasn’t caught off guard by an aggressive demolition expert who rarely gave people time to think things through, she was probably feisty as hell.