Authors: Sophie Renwick
“Yeah, well, you bargained with the wrong man, Jenna. Because I want to know where you are every
second of the day.”
“But—”
“Go to sleep,” he interrupted. “Unless, of course, you want me to pull over and get my freak on.”
She closed her eyes. Bryce had never been more disappointed.
Jenna awoke slowly and blinked. The sun was hanging low in the azure sky. Fingers of orange and hot
pink streaked across the horizon, making the clouds a kaleidoscope of pastels.
In the distance, row after row of grape vines and olive trees dotted the hills. Sun-warmed houses in the
color of terra-cotta rose out of green fields. Cypress trees lined the narrow, rambling road they were
now traveling.
“We’re almost there,” Bryce said as she stirred and sat up. “That’s San Gimignano, where the house is.
It’s a medieval town dating from the thirteenth century. Has the best piazza in Northern Italy. At least I
think so. Piazza del Duomo has a fabulous market where you can buy anything. I love going for the fresh
produce and meat. I think you’ll like it. And I know a great place for gelato. It’s right in the piazza.”
Jenna could hardly take it all in. First Bryce was here in Italy, and now he was whisking her away to
Tuscany to his house, for God’s sake? When the hell had Bryce bought a house, and why hadn’t he told
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her?
Maybe he hadn’t wanted her to know about it. Maybe he liked coming here with other women. Oh God,
how many others had he brought here?
“Here we go. You can see the house on top of the hill. It’s small, but the view is outstanding.”
“When did you buy it?” she asked, not bothering to addand why .
“Last year. You remember our nanny, Maria? Well, it was her family’s place. When she left us, she came
back to Italy and lived there. She died last year and the family couldn’t keep it. They contacted me and
asked if I would be interested in purchasing it. I jumped at the chance.”
“Oh.” She could just imagine how many other things Bryce jumped when he was here.
“Tuscany is Italy’s breadbasket. Since I’m a chef, it’s a dream to visit. And owning a piece of its land is
surreal.”
Yeah, and so was this.
“Here we are,” he said, with obvious pride in his voice. “It’s not much, but it’s cozy. And like I said, it’s
got a great view of an estate vineyard out the back.”
Bryce pulled the car up to a small farmhouse made of the same stone as the other houses she had seen. It
was old, rustic and utterly charming.
Bryce was already out of the car and coming around to her door. He helped her out, but didn’t let go of
her hand. “So what do you think, Jen? You like it?”
“It’s great.”
And it really was. Suddenly Jenna felt a little sick. Had Bryce done this before, brought women here?
All those business trips, she reminded herself. Had they really been business, or had he lied to her and
come to Italy with some gorgeous blonde for a few days of romance?
“I pay a local to watch the place for me. I called her before I came so that the inside would be ready for
us.”
Her. That was all Jenna heard. A woman. No doubt an exotic Italian beauty who doubled as Bryce’s
lover.
“You want to go in?”
Not really. But then she was in the middle of nowhere and she wasn’t sure how she’d get back to Milan.
And the prospect of sleeping in the hatchback wasn’t appealing, either.
“Jenna?”
“Yeah, let’s go in.”
He held her hand as they walked up the path. He opened the door with his key and ushered her through.
Jenna knew her mouth was hanging open as she looked around. The house was small, but it was warm
and beautiful and looked like something out of a magazine.
“Estella decorated for me. What do you think?”
That she hated Estella, but that was hardly fair to the woman. Besides, it wasn’t like she was going to
admit it to Bryce. She was in this for the sex, and nothing else, as far as he knew. No need to blow her
cover by getting all jealous. Even though she was feeling like she could scratch Estella’s eyes out and
string Bryce up by his balls.
“It’s great,” she replied as she set her purse on the tile countertop. She saw that Estella had placed a
bowl of fresh fruit and a loaf of crusty bread on the counter. To the right, a bottle of red wine was sitting
atop a handwritten note. Too bad her Italian sucked. Then again, maybe she really didn’t want to know
what the note said.
“I’ll be right back,” Bryce said. “I’m just going to grab the suit cases.”
Jenna didn’t say anything. What could she say? Nothing that was in her heart—that was for sure.
Bryce was back in what felt like two seconds. Far too soon for Jenna to have come up with a plan to get
her emotions in check. If she didn’t want Bryce to bail, she needed to get rid of these clingy, jealous
feelings that were ruling her.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. She noticed he made a beeline for the letter.
Jenna turned her back, not wanting to see Bryce read Estella’s letter. She was hungry. But not for food.
Just for Bryce. And not just Bryce’s body, either. She was hungry for his affection. For his love.
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“No, I’m okay.”
“Really? Because Estella says she’s put some cheese and prosciutto in the fridge.”
“No, really, I’m not hungry.”
“Then do you want to get cleaned up and go into town?”
What? So he could meet Estella? God, she really needed to get a grip, for crying out loud.
He came around the counter and reached for her, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I know this is
strange, but I hope you’re as excited as I am to be here. I’ve been wanting to tell you about this place,
but with the magazine fallout and all that, I got sidetracked.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations, Bryce. What you do with your life isn’t my concern.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Was it—hurt? “I brought you here because I wanted to spend time with
you. No work. No family. You wouldn’t allow me to take you on a date, so I decided this was the best
way to get you alone.”
“I have a lot of work to do, Bryce.”
“One night, Jenna? You can’t leave work to be with me for one night?”
When had Bryce ever asked that of her? Never.
“I just want it to be like it was, Jenna. When it was just the two of us hanging out. I want to take you to
the piazza and show you around. I want to have dinner with you and talk, share things. Don’t you want
that? Don’t you want more than just sex?”
Yes, she wanted to scream, but then what would he do? Would he regret his rash words? Would he
think that she’d read too much into them? One night of talking didn’t mean he wanted to marry her.
She was spared answering him by the ring of her phone. She moved to her purse, but Bryce beat her to
it. He slammed his palm down on the leather bag, covering it.
“Who the hell is calling you? It can’t be anyone from home.”
“Why not? I stopped and got that little chip you need to make and place international calls.”
“Always business,” he snapped. “You ever think of anything other than business?”
“Bryce, I really need to see who’s calling. It might be important.”
He dragged his hand through his hair. “Obviously more important than this.”
Jenna reached into her purse and retrieved her phone. “It’s James,” she said, turning her back. “I’ll only
be a minute.”
“Jenna—” Bryce tried, but then stopped. “Whatever. I’m going to shower. Then I’m going to the piazza.
You can stay or you can spend all fucking night talking to James. I don’t care anymore.”
She flipped the phone open.
“Hey, sunshine, how’d you make out today?” James asked.
Jenna watched as Bryce stripped out of his T-shirt. The muscles in his back rippled beneath his bronzed
skin. Her mouth actually began to water. She wanted to touch him. To feel him. But most of all, she just
wanted to be held by him.
These last few days had left her emotionally raw.
“Jenna?”
“Ah, it was good, James.”
“Not a good time to talk?”
“Not really.”
“Okay, just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re okay. We’ll catch up Tuesday morning when
you get back to work.”
“Okay. And, James, thanks for calling.”
“No problem.”
Jenna clicked her phone shut and stared at the bathroom door, which Bryce had slammed shut. He was
acting strange. First flying here, and then this, this desire to spend time with her out of the sack. What did
it mean?
If he were any other guy, she’d know what to think. That Bryce was looking for more than just some
casual fling. But this was Bryce, after all. He was a commitment-phobe. He couldn’t possibly want what
she wanted. At least not yet.
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The doorbell rang, and Jenna went to get it. When she opened it, she looked down to see a little old lady
standing there with a basket.
“Signorina Jenna?” she asked in a heavily accented voice.
“Si?”
“Signor Bryce asked for this.”
Jenna took the basket from the lady and tried to peer into it, but it was covered by a cloth.“Grazie,” she
said, trying her limited Italian.
“Mi chiamo Estella.”
“You’re Estella?” Jenna gasped.
“Si?”the woman replied.
Jenna reached out and grabbed her hand. “It’s so very nice to meet you.”
The woman’s eyes widened and she smiled, as if she knew of Jenna’s relief. “It is very good also to meet
you at last.”
“At last?”
The woman smiled, and then turned away. “Signor Bryce speak of you all the time. It is good to finally
meet hisbella signorina ,” she said again. Bryce had talked about her? Really? Jenna was suddenly giddy
at the thought.
As the woman disappeared down the cobbled sidewalk, Jenna tore the cloth from the basket and peered
in. It was filled with chocolates. Ooh, and chocolate-covered cherries in syrup—her favorite.
Bryce Ryder truly was a god, she thought as she looked once more at the bathroom door. Now she just
needed to figure out how to capture him.
Eleven
Watching Bryce in the shower was something Jenna knew she shouldn’t be doing, but she couldn’t seem
to draw herself away. She’d only meant to sneak a peek, but with a view like this, who wouldn’t want to
stay?
God, he was beautiful, with the water rushing down over his naked, glistening muscles, then running in
rivulets down his chiseled six-pack. Hungry for him, she let her gaze follow a particular stream of water
as it trickled down his perfect torso, down the fine black hair on his belly, which she wanted to trace with
her tongue. Down lower to where his hands cradled his thick shaft.
Sex with Bryce in a steaming shower had always been a favorite fantasy of hers, but there was no way
she could ever have imagined just how beautiful he looked totally naked and glistening wet.
Look away,the modest voice inside her screamed. But the vixen lurking inside her lured her on. Besides,
it wasn’t like he knew what she was doing. He probably thought she was still on the phone with James.
Man, he’d been pissed when she’d taken the call. And the little thrill of euphoria that shot through her
blood was still swimming inside her.
He’d been so possessive today. He’d said he wanted to spend time with her, alone in a rustic farmhouse,
tucked away in the vine-covered fields of Tuscany. She’d been mesmerized, buoyed by the thought that
he might actually want more from her than sex.
Thank God, her cell had gone off. One minute more and she would have been lost. Would have risked
everything and told him how much she loved him. How badly she wanted to make a life with him.
But what did Bryce want?
The sound of the water changed. It was harder, pulsing, and it drew Jenna’s attention away from her
thoughts. Bryce was reaching up, angling the showerhead down toward his groin, letting the hard spray
hit the head of his cock as he stood in the open ceramic tile shower, gloriously naked, just asking to be
watched. And the way his fingers were traveling up and down his shaft, a slow, teasing glide up one side,
then down the other, kept her rooted to her spot, all thoughts and questions about Bryce’s feelings
replaced by lust.
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Bryce was already impressively aroused, but she watched him grow ever thicker and longer as he
gently—teasingly—trailed his fingers along his engorged shaft. His eyes suddenly closed, his lips parting a
fraction as the hard spray pelted his cock.
Wild horses couldn’t drag her away from the erotic sight of Bryce in the shower, masturbating.
Jenna watched as he lifted his face to the warm spray of water. His eyes were still closed and he
swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His neck suddenly arched back and his biceps
seemed taut, the ink of his tattoo stretched. With a quick glance downward, she discovered the reason.
His fist was now enclosed around his cock and he was driving it up and down, pumping himself as the
water continued its pulsing beat where his hand and cock were joined.
Sexy as hell.She’d never seen anyone as sexy as Bryce. And if she had any sense at all, she’d strip down