Page 54 of An Inconvenient Marriage
Zach’s jaw muscles jumped, and his eyes darkened to almost black. “There’s a lot I want to do.” His words were low and filled with promise.
And gosh, my body wanted whatever he was offering.
So much, I was just about ready to beg for it. How pathetic. Giving myself a mental shake, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to keep the words from accidentally slipping out. Because the very last thing I needed was for Zach to know that even though I was upset with him, I still desperately wanted him to kiss me again.
Although one look at the heat burning in his gaze was enough for me to realize how transparent I was. I didn’t need a mirror to know my neck and cheeks were the brightest shade of red, I could feel the embarrassment crawl over my skin.
Of course, Zach noticed immediately. His eyes dropped to my chest, then his gaze slowly traveled back up to meet mine. I swallowed, then swallowed again. Because holy crap, there was even more heat in his intense stare.
I was also certain if he kept looking at me like that—like I was a meal and he a starved man—I’d spontaneously combust right there where I stood.
He must have known it, too, because his hand came up again. This time trailing along my collarbone. “There’s a lot I want to do,” he said again. “More than you’ll ever know.”
With a wicked grin, he slipped his fingers around my nape and drew my cheek to his mouth. Another shiver ran through me, and I had to bite back my sigh when his lips touched my skin and he dragged them to my ear.
“But I think I’ll start with giving you a tour of the vineyard and winery.”
Wait. What?
Why wasn’t he kissing me? And why was he talking about touring the vineyard? I was still trying to make sense of what was going on when he pulled back.
“I remember you said you wanted to see how everything works, so I thought I’d show you.” He was smiling. It wasn’t one of those pasted-on ones either. It was a genuine smile.
I gaped at him. “Who are you?” The moment the words slipped out, I immediately wanted to apologize until I heard it. Zach’s laugh. My goodness, how was it even possible for someone to swoon over a laugh?
But then again, how could I not?
When his laugh died down—way too soon for my liking—he put his hand over his chest. “I deserved that.Sé que he cometido un error, pero no volverá a ocurrir.”
"You know I don't understand Spanish, right?"
His smile was lethal. "I made a mistake and I won't let it happen again." He pinned me with a panty-melting stare. “Will you let me show you around?”
“I think I’d like that.”
Twenty minutes later, we were strolling through the vineyard. Zach had changed into cargo shorts and a short-sleeved shirt before we left, and I couldn’t stop staring. Everything about him was so different.
Especially when he was talking about the grapes and the whole wine-making process like he was doing now. I wasn’t even sure if he realized how much he was smiling or if he knew his excitement came through in his voice.
This was something that meant a lot to him, and he was sharing it with me. I was sure it wasn’t a big deal to him, but to me it meant everything. Because maybe now I could confide in him, and maybe, just maybe, he could help me find my way out.
“… and there’s so much more to see,” I heard him say.
Unaware of my wandering mind, he took my hand, and we walked toward two large buildings.
I stared at our entwined fingers for a few moments. This was weird, right? Or at least, I thought it was supposed to be weird. We weren’t really married, and we didn’t know enough about each other to be holding hands… but it didn’t feel weird at all.
It was nice, and I definitely wanted a whole lot more of nice in my life.
My gaze rolled over the rows and rows of grapes. “I’m curious how you went from building casinos to owning a working winery?”
I stole a quick glance at the man beside me, and my breath whooshed from my lungs. He was smiling again. It was wide and beautiful. And it should definitely come with a warning sign.
Caution, hearts and underwear are not safe when smile is active.
“Although I enjoy a well-aged red,” he said. “It wasn’t the wine that drew me to this place.”
His thumb moved in circles over the back of my hand. It was such a small action, but he might as well have been touching me intimately. I felt iteverywhere.
