Innocent of His Claim. Janette Kenny

that he couldn’t find it in him to trust her now.

      You don’t trust him anymore either.

      How funny he’d accused her of lying, of betraying him, when he too had broken his promise. He’d shattered her trust in him.

      She heaved a sigh, sick at heart that nothing had changed. They were still two wounded souls, hurting each other because that was easier.

      “I’m curious about the vineyard my father destroyed,” she said, making herself clear.

      He stared straight ahead, annoyed she was continuing her questions, vexed that the ripple of pain reflected in her clear blue eyes got to him, made him believe her innocence if only for a moment.

      All an act. It had to be. And if he was wrong? If she was truly ignorant of her father’s schemes? If she’d been blackmailed to comply with Tate’s dictates?

      What did it matter now? Too much had happened between them. He was more jaded than ever before and she was as well or she wouldn’t be this cautious, this remote.

      “Fine,” she huffed out, crossing her arms and staring militantly out the window. “Forget I asked.”

      He caught himself smiling at her show of temper, admiring that steel that ran down her spine. A gentleman would comply with her request. But he was no gentleman.

      “It is roughly twenty kilometers south of the villa. Half an hour by car.” He stared at her profile, willing her to face him. “Less if I’m driving.”

      She continued her vigil out the window but he thought some of the tension eased from her narrow shoulders, that the slightest hint of a smile teased her soft lips. “How long before we reach the villa?”

      “It should not take more than twenty minutes,” he said, answering as calmly as she’d asked, keeping his tone low, intimate, as she’d done.

      It didn’t require a response and she didn’t offer one. That was for the best. More than ever he needed to get back to the reason she was here.

      Theirs was simply a working relationship. Anything beyond that was too great a risk.

      Yet instead of relaxing, his heart accelerated even more during the drive to the Cabriotini villa. The easy explanation was his own unease at returning here, far easier than admitting his thoughts were on Delanie.

      The simple truth was this mansion wasn’t home to him and never would be. The moment he was away from it, he put the man who’d lived and wasted his life and fortune here completely out of his thoughts.

      If he could just do the same regarding the enticing woman beside him. She’d plagued his sleep too often over the years. He’d convinced himself he’d hated her.

      A damned lie.

      He distrusted her but he didn’t hate her. He wanted her with the same fire that had burned in him ten years ago.

      The conundrum for him was how to put that fire out?

      His gaze flicked to hers and his body stirred more than it had in ages. What the hell was it about this woman? Dare he hope he could get her out of his system? That he could move on?

      Overindulgence. Too much of a good thing could sour a man. Perhaps that was what was needed now.