Read Seaside Sunsets Online

Authors: Melissa Foster

Seaside Sunsets (35 page)

“Good evening, Emily.” Adelina brushed lint from the curtains hanging beside the glass doors. Emily was glad they loved the property as much as she did. They rented out only two rooms of the six-bedroom villa in order to always have space available for family and friends. The villa was a home to them, not just a business, as was evident in the warm guest rooms.

“Good evening, Adelina. Any news on Serafina’s husband?”

Serafina was Adelina and Marcello’s daughter, who had recently moved back home with her eight-month-old son. They’d been living in the States when her husband, Dante, a United States Marine, had gone missing in Afghanistan while out on tour almost three months ago. Adelina had told Emily that she’d begged Serafina to come home and let her take care of her and baby Luca until her husband returned—and Adelina was adamant that he
would
return. Emily, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so sure.

“Not yet, but I have faith.” Adelina lowered her eyes, and with a friendly nod, she disappeared down the hall in the direction of her bedroom.

Emily turned back toward the evening sky, sending a silent prayer that Serafina’s husband would return unharmed.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”

The rich, deep voice sent a shiver down Emily’s spine. She turned, and—
holy smokes.
Standing before her was more than six feet of deeply tanned, deliciously muscled male. His hair was the color of warm mocha and spilled over his eyes, hanging just an inch above the collar of his tight black T-shirt. She opened her mouth to greet him, but her mouth went dry and no words came. She reached for the stone rail of the archway she’d been gazing through and managed a smile.

His full lips quirked up, filling his deep brown eyes with amusement as he stepped closer.

“The view,” he repeated as his eyes swept over her, causing her insides to do a nervous dance. The amusement in his eyes gave way to something dark and sensual.

It had been so long since Emily had seen that look directed at her that it took her by surprise. She cleared her throat and reluctantly dragged her gaze back to the view below, which paled in comparison to the one right next to her.

Holy crap. Get a grip
. It must be the Italian air or the evening sky that had her heart racing like she’d just run a marathon.

Or the fact that I haven’t had sex in…

“Awestruck. I hear Italy has that effect on people.” He leaned his forearms on the thick stone rail and bent over, clasping his large hands together.

“Yeah, right. Italy.” Emily’s eyes widened at the sarcasm in her voice. She clenched her mouth shut. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He probably had this crazy effect on all women, and here she was gushing over him. She didn’t gush.
Ever
. What the hell?

He cocked his head to the side and smiled up at her. Emily saw the spark of something wicked and playful in his eyes, like he could be either in a heartbeat. A hint of danger that Emily thought maybe he knew he possessed. A low laugh rumbled from his chest as he arched a brow.

Oh God
. She felt her chest and face flush with heat and crossed her arms. A barrier between them. Yes, that’s what she needed, since apparently she couldn’t control her own freaking hormones.

“I’m sorry. I just got in this evening and it was a long trip. Eye fatigue.”
Eye fatigue?
She held her breath, hoping he’d pretend, as she was, that that was the real reason she was ogling him.

“I just arrived myself.” He held a hand out. “Dae Bray. Nice to meet you.”

Emily felt the tension in her neck ease as he accepted her explanation. “Emily Braden. Day? That’s an interesting name.” She shook his strong, warm hand, and he held hers a beat too long, bringing that tension right back to her body—and an entirely different type of tension to her lower belly.

“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.

He’d felt her body tense when she’d run into him, and unstoppable heat had flared between them. She’d melted a little right there in his arms.
Melted
. That was the only way to describe the way the tension drained from her shoulders and back and brought all her soft curves against him. If he were the type of guy who was into casual sex, she’d be ripe for the taking. But Dae had left casual sex behind and had grown a conscience a few years back.

As he poured them each a glass of wine, he wondered who had texted her earlier and caused her to laugh.

Dae handed her a glass of wine and held it up in a toast. “To Tuscany.”

Emily smiled as they clinked glasses, then took a sip of her wine. “Oh, that’s really good. It’s just what I needed.”

Dae watched her as she forwent the long wooden bench and sat atop the wide table.

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