Free Innocent of His Claim by Janette Kenny Page B

and trying not to recall a similar day outside London when she and Marco had stopped in a shop for a takeaway lunch, deciding spontaneously to turn it into a picnic instead.
    And they’d feasted the better part of the day on sweets and savories and hot kisses, getting more intoxicated on each other than on the wine. One look at him now was proof he could do so again.
    A hot swirl of heat curled low in her belly and she frowned,annoyed her thoughts always splintered off into something torrid with him. It would be so easy to fall into his arms, his bed.
    But with pleasure came heartache. She’d learned that lesson well. Even the unspoken promise of pleasure she glimpsed in his eyes could turn on her like a viper.
    “This is really more than enough,” she said.
    “Who knows? You may have company.”
    Like him? Her throat went dry at the thought of entertaining Marco in a villa, just the two of them. There had been a time when she would have done anything to get him alone.
    “I’m sure I’ll be far too busy working to receive guests,” she said, pulling out her wallet to pay for her purchases.
    “Meals are included in your contract,” he said, giving the shopkeeper a look that had the man turning from her.
    There wasn’t a thing in the contract regarding meals and they both knew it, but again arguing would only raise another passion. Best to let that issue rest.
    She was already tired from the journey and stressed to the max by being with Marco again. “Thank you then.”
    Outside her gaze drifted over the stone buildings and narrow streets and walkways rising like steps up the hillside. There was just enough sun to give the village a Monet aura with bluing shadows creeping over stucco washed a mellow gold by the setting sun.
    “There is a bistro near the castle that serves amazing food,” he said as he joined her, his shadow swallowing her whole much as she knew his passion would do if she surrendered to it. “I suggest we eat before you retire to your residence.”
    And wouldn’t that be cozy? Her sharing an intimate meal with the man she still found far too desirable.
    She diverted her eyes from the magnetic draw of his. “I’m far too weary from the journey to enjoy it. Besides I have ample food to sustain me should I get hungry.”
    Over the thud of her own heart she heard the melodic strains of a mandolin, the music floating on a cooling breeze.But she felt no chill, not with Marco standing so close, not when his nearness warmed her from the inside out.
    “Very well then,” he said. “Another time.”
    Not if she could avoid it.
    He pressed a hand to her back and she swallowed a gasp as heat flooded her, spiraling out from his splayed fingers to flow through her in sultry waves. No, she had to keep her distance from this man who was already taking far too many liberties.
    She hurried to the car and climbed in, not waiting for him to assist her. He hissed a curse and closed the door after her, and she took a breath then another as he walked around the front of the car, one strong, well-boned hand riding the sleek hood.
    In moments he threw himself behind the wheel and they were off, the car winding up the hills lined with poplar and flanked by fields of grapes, their leaves a burnished gold hiding grapes that looked black this time of day.
    Marco handled the powerful car with ease, seeming so arrogantly sure of himself that her nerves tightened another notch. She was no match for him. Never had been.
    How funny that he accused her of betraying him, using him, when she’d been the vulnerable one, caught up in the magnetic pull of the dashing Italian. In the span of several weeks, he’d romanced her and proposed marriage.
    While she desperately waited for him to come for her, he’d deserted her without explanation. Left her to believe her family’s lies.
    She’d lost her heart and her will to trust in love again. Lost control of her company and her life. Regaining it had became her goal. Her only vow