She wasn’t starting to fall. She’d already landed.
Good and hard.
Chapter Thirty-five
The next morning Emma rose early when Vanni did. He would go down to the racing circuit to make sure everything was in order, take care of last minute-details, and do a last-minute check of the Montand racecar with Niki, then return to La Mer to pick up Emma for the race itself. She’d showered, thrown on a sundress, and gone downstairs before him. It was another perfect day on the French Riviera. Emma wondered if there were ever days that weren’t sun drenched and infused with the sweet breezes off the Mediterranean.
Mrs. Denis was in high spirits for raceday. She led Emma out onto the terrace and proudly displayed a breakfast table laid with china, silver, colorful flags, and what appeared to be a miniature version of the Montand racecar.
“They’re selling them in the village. I thought Vanni would like to see it,” Mrs. Denis said, laughing as Emma picked up the little black, red, and blue car with Montand and the number 14 painted on the side in white. She heard a sound behind her and turned to see Vanni walking onto the terrace. Her gaze dipped over him appreciatively. No one could wear a tuxedo with such masculine, careless grace as him, and then morph into a casual resort mode with equal comfort. He was clean-shaven this morning and his eyes looked cool and sharp and focused . . . until they landed on her, Emma realized with a rush of warmth. She held up the little car as he approached, smiling.
“Look what Mrs. Denis got you. Lucky boy, you get to play with the real thing.”
“And she better play nice for Niki today,” he said, his uncommon, brilliant smile warming her even farther.
“Happy Raceday. Bonne chance, Montand!” Mrs. Denis enthused, waving her hand with a little flourish. Emma laughed. She was adorable. Vanni must have thought the same thing, because he leaned down and kissed the housekeeper on both cheeks. Mrs. Denis looked extremely pleased, giving Emma a pointed glance.
“What have you done to my gloomy Vanni?”
“She’s beat him into the shadows, where he belongs,” Vanni said without pause, meeting Emma’s stare, a smile lingering on his lips. Emma felt herself color at the potent compliment.
/> “I knew you were luck to us,” Mrs. Denis enthused, patting Emma softly on the arm.
Vanni chuckled and leaned down, kissing both of Emma’s warm cheeks and then her lips, where he lingered. Mrs. Denis cleared her throat. “I’ll get your breakfast.” Which seemed to be a signal for Vanni to pull her closer and kiss her in earnest.
“You smell delicious,” he said a moment later, nuzzling her neck. “Maybe I should skip breakfast and eat you instead.”
“You already did,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as his lips brushed against her pulse.
“Two meals is a lucky tradition on raceday, especially when they’re as delicious as you.” He kissed a patch of skin just below her ear and then scraped it lightly with his teeth. She shivered in excitement. He transferred his mouth to the opening of her ear, and she felt herself melting.
“You just made that up,” she said.
“I’m entitled. It’s the first Montand grand prix. I have to start raceday traditions sometime.”
“You’re not really thinking of going back to bed, are you?” she asked weakly.
“Of course I’m thinking of it,” he said, straightening his head and pinning her with a lambent stare.
She smiled. She was thinking of it, too, and he knew it.
“We shouldn’t,” she said in a hushed tone. “I can still look Mrs. Denis in the eye without blushing, unlike Niki. And the rest of the people on the yacht.”
His mouth tilted in amusement. They both heard Mrs. Denis’s footsteps inside, bringing them their breakfast. Vanni’s dark brows went up in a silent message of resignation. He seated her at the table instead of leading her back to the bedroom. She knew he was thinking about what happened yesterday after he’d hauled her off to bed. She was thinking about it, too.
After they’d made love that first time so explosively, Vanni had made love to her again, the second time still heated, but soulful and poignant. Afterward, they’d talked quietly, touching each other, the afterglow so sweet that she’d forgotten where they were.
When reality had finally struck, anxiety came with it.
“Is that really the time?” she’d asked, her gaze landing on a bedside clock. “Oh my God, Vanni, we’ve been down here for hours. Niki must think we’re so rude. The others must wonder what we’re doing,” She’d started to scramble up from the bed, but Vanni had halted her with a hand around her wrist.
“They know what we were doing. We’re all adults. Besides, the yacht has been anchored for the past twenty minutes. Most of the guests have probably already gone back to shore.”
She’d blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” he’d said dryly. “Besides, I told you it doesn’t matter what any of them think, Niki aside. And he’ll be happy.”
She’d fallen back on the bed, bracing herself with her elbows.