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Christmas Contract For His Cinderella. Jane Porter
Читать онлайн.Название Christmas Contract For His Cinderella
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474088527
Автор произведения Jane Porter
Серия Mills & Boon Modern
Издательство HarperCollins
“Four weeks then.” He suppressed a sigh. “Will you sit, please?”
“That’s still the middle of January.”
He was silent a long moment before countering. “Three weeks from tomorrow, but only if you sit down. This is uncomfortable, and we’re drawing attention.”
“There is no one else in this dining room. It’s exceptionally private.”
“I’m in this dining room and you’re making me uncomfortable.”
“Heavens, we can’t have that, can we?” she retorted mockingly, before slowly sitting back down. “Two weeks.”
“Three.”
She reached for her wineglass and took a sip, hoping he wouldn’t see how her hand trembled. “I wouldn’t want to remain after you and Vittoria return after New Year’s.”
“You wouldn’t have to.”
“I’ll be on a flight home that first weekend of January.”
“I’ll send you home on my plane. I promise.”
Her gaze met his. “Or sooner if you and Vittoria return sooner. I’ve no interest in being present while you integrate Vittoria into your household.”
“Understood.”
“And one more stipulation,” she said after a long pause. “I need to go to work in the morning. I must find a missing wedding gown—”
“We need to return to Italy.”
“You need to return to Italy. I don’t.” Her eyebrows lifted as her brown eyes flashed indignant fire. “I need to find Mrs. Wilkerson’s daughter’s missing gown, and then I can go with you. Give me until noon. I’ve made Mrs. Wilkerson a promise and a promise is a promise.”
He digested her words for a moment before brusquely nodding. “Fine. My car will be at Bernard’s at noon. We will leave straight for the airport.”
The corner of her mouth curled up. “You’re not worried that I’ll try to run away and escape you?”
His body went hard at that saucy curl of her lips. Thank God he wasn’t going to be spending much time with Monet. Thank God he was taking her to the castello and leaving promptly. Monet had always tested his control. She still tested his control.
“No,” he answered roughly. “Because a promise is a promise.”
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