Her lips parted as his eyes drifted down over her face. She felt her cheeks heat. He lowered his face to hers, giving her time to notice the heat of his skin, time to inhale his subtle musky scent.

Their lips came together slowly. It happened by imperceptible degrees, but the impact of skin touching skin slammed her like a car wreck. Suddenly her hands were on him, clutching at his shirt, her fingers pushing up into his hair.

His arms closed around her, holding her tight, squeezing her with a passion that made her breath catch as he kissed her with a ferocity she could never have imagined.

I love you, Naldo De Leon.

The thought never seemed to be far from her mind lately. His firm, warm embrace filled her with a surge of excitement and a shocking sense of well-being. It felt right.

But how could it be?

He wasn’t asking her to move in with him. He wasn’t asking her to marry him.

She pulled back, a painful effort that involved tearing her lips from his impassioned kiss against the urging of every cell in her body.

“You want to have an affair with me.” Her words emerged breathless. Her lips stung, still quivering with the force of his kiss.

Naldo’s narrowed eyes burned with naked lust. He blinked once, then lowered his lips over hers again, in wordless assent to her question.

She succumbed to the sensual heat of the moment, drifting in his arms, until her eyes snapped open and she pulled back again.

A pang of pain stung her heart. Naldo would never marry her. She was no pedigreed Spanish contessa. She was the illegitimate daughter of a cook and she’d never fit into Naldo’s world of three-hundred-year-old porcelain plates and four-hundred-year-old prejudices.

Sure, he wanted her. He wanted to kiss her and lick her and rub his impatient hands over her fevered skin. To strip her naked and make love to her until they both lay breathless and exhausted.

Her body ached with the desire to do those things with him, preferably right now, but her mind whispered warnings that made far too much sense.

He’ll use you. He’ll get what he wants, take his fill, then move on. And where will that leave you?

“I don’t want to be a rich man’s mistress.”

“You wouldn’t be a rich man’s mistress.” Naldo’s husky voice filled her ears.

Did he plan to ask her to be his wife?

“You’d be a rich man’s girlfriend.”

Naldo took hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger. He tilted her face to look up at his. “And if you take my offer, you’ll be a rich man’s rich girlfriend.”

Humor still sparkled in his eyes. So confident. As if it didn’t occur to him that she would say no.

“Four million dollars. It’s yours. All you have to do is say the word.”

A shudder of powerful emotion rocked her, stinging her fingers and toes.

Love?

Fear?

Or both, shaken into a cocktail that threatened to deprive her of her senses.

“I can feel your heart beating.” Naldo placed two long, powerful fingers on the pulse at her neck. His chest pressed against hers, their hearts pounding together.

Her lips itched to touch his. To settle into the firm warmth of his kiss. To shun words that tangled into confusion as she tried to make sense of a situation that seemed so…impossible.

Too good to be true?

“I want to make love to you.” Naldo’s harsh whisper tickled her ear. Heat rippled through her, sparking a fire low in her belly.

His fingers slid down to cup her buttocks and caress them, through the smooth fabric of her dress.

Her breathing came quicker as her nipples tightened against his chest.

I want to love you.

Her stray thought was different from what he offered. One, a phrase implying something physical, transient, the other bringing with it the promise of a connection that could last a lifetime.

She swallowed hard.

His fingers slid around her leg, and sneaked up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her sex responded with a welcoming throb.

“Stop, please.” She forced the words from quivering lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get a grip on all the sensations taking her body by storm.

Naldo’s broad hand paused on her thigh. Her skin hummed beneath his fingers.

“You know you want to.” His deep voice wrapped itself around her, thick with temptation.

“I need time to think,” she managed. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his firm embrace, even though it was the last thing she truly wanted.

“You think far too much.” Naldo softened his grip. His gleaming black eyes met hers and he pushed a stray strand of hair off her forehead. “Too much thinking can confuse you. Sometimes you just have to act.”

“It’s all so sudden. One minute you’re desperate to get rid of me, throwing money at me and trying to make me disappear. Now you want me to stay? It doesn’t make sense.”

She still couldn’t get over the nagging suspicion that this was all part of his plan to reclaim the land and the jewels.

“Trust me, I’ve done everything in my power to make myself see sense.” Naldo tilted his proud head. “I’ve told myself time and again that it’s better for the family and the estate if you leave. I know that. As heir to the estate I should settle down into a ‘sensible’ marriage. But I don’t want to, I want you.”

The passion in his words tugged at something deep inside her. But the words themselves stung like a hard slap.

She was right.

He would never marry her.

It didn’t even occur to him that she might be offended by him saying it out loud. Obviously the idea was so impossible that it didn’t even bear consideration.

She pulled out of his arms and flew across the room, her breath coming in gulps. She took a deep breath. Common sense for her was taking what he offered. Four million dollars. As Isabela had said, the offer might not last.

Naldo looked at her steadily. “If you like, you could still live in the cottage. I know it means a lot to you.”

His words made her bite her lip. The offer was a big sacrifice for him. Tongues would wag like crazy. The boss visiting the servants’ quarters in time-honored tradition. But the prospect of being able to live here among the groves, in Paradiso, quickened her pulse.

And if he could make the rash step of giving in to his lust for her, maybe one day he might take an even rasher step…

But what if he didn’t?

What if he used her the way two men had used her mother? Without ever promising marriage, or any commitment beyond an evening of pleasure.

It would break her heart.

“I think you should leave now.” She said it softly. She didn’t want him to leave at all. She wanted him to stay, forever. To hold her in his arms and promise her all those things that hadn’t even crossed his mind. That probably never would.

Naldo reached into his back pocket. “Here’s the revised contract. Just so you know I mean what I say.” He placed the slim envelope on the table.

He parted with a brief kiss that left her lips humming and her mind spinning. She sank into a chair at the kitchen table as his engine purred down the drive.

She could have it all. More money than she could have imagined, Naldo, and glorious days living here in the most beautiful place on earth.

But for how long?

The cottage and the land were a place to call home. Should she take cold cash for a gift her mother might have wanted her to cherish and protect for a lifetime?

And what about the recipes? Perhaps she should investigate what legal rights she might be able to secure in her mother’s name?

No. Her mom created those recipes for the estate, the place she loved and the people she loved. She must have been thrilled to contribute to their prosperity in such a tangible way.

She picked up the beautiful book and leafed through the pages that shone with love and care. The delicate line drawings revealed such a different side to the gruff landowner she remembered, the man who’d made her mother happy.

And now that she thought about it, maybe her mother had tried to tell her about her late-in-life love. Snatches of fond conversation, chivalrous visits from “the boss,” the new grove of trees, a new light in her mom’s eyes…

And dismissive teenaged put-downs from Anna’s own lips. The voice of insecurity and unease drawing a sharp line between her tiny family and the mighty De Leons who employed them.

Her mother had decided to keep quiet about the love of her life, perhaps not wanting her own relationship, which began as adultery, held up to the harsh light of Anna’s exacting standards.

She bit her knuckle hard, trying not to cry. All or nothing, that’s you, Anna. You have to have it all, or you don’t want any of it. She was no different from Naldo. Wanting everything black and white, with no gray areas.

She wanted marriage, a lifetime of love, a real family where her children had a mother and a father.

Her mom was probably right to keep quiet about her affair with Robert De Leon. She would have poked and prodded and pried. She would have asked, “Why won’t he marry you?” She wouldn’t have understood.

She could understand now, though, after the dismal failure of her own marriage.

True love is not so easy to find.

Her mom must have accepted that Robert De Leon would never marry her. She must have woven that acceptance into the fabric of her life with the quiet strength she’d used to weather so much adversity.

She stood and closed the book.

Could she do the same thing with Naldo? Learn to accept that life wasn’t black and white, all or nothing? Love this proud and demanding man, even though he would likely never want to make her his wife and partner?

Could she? She bit her lip hard. Probably not.

Anna came back from town with groceries to cook herself a real dinner. She’d pulled the van up close to the house, with the plan to unpack her belongings from it tomorrow.

She was about to sit down to a salad of chicken, Asian noodles, and fresh orange segments from the Summer’s Shadow grove, when she heard a car pull up outside. A glance out the window curdled her appetite.

Isabela.

She was up and at the door before Isabela had a chance to knock. “I’m just sitting down to dinner. What is it?”

Isabela didn’t remove her dark glasses despite the setting sun. “Naldo told me you still haven’t sold to him.” Anna heard emotion in her voice and wondered if it was real or fake. “What are you trying to do? Don’t you know that every day you stay here prolongs the scandal?”

“You’ve got some nerve talking about scandal when you planted that story in the paper.” Anna stepped through the doorway, intentionally crowding the chiffon-clad diva.

“I thought I could convince Naldo to sell. That whispers and rumors would make him want to leave. I never intended for them to know that my brother was fooling around with the cook’s daughter. Obviously neither you nor he has any shame. What if the European paparazzi gets hold of this?”

Her voice shook. Her big, black glasses hid her eyes, and Anna could only guess at the fury behind the reflective surface.

She couldn’t help laughing. “You are kidding! Why on earth would the European paparazzi care about what’s going on in a sleepy little Florida town?

“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand.” Isabela’s lips puckered into a moue of distaste. “The De Leons are one of the oldest families in Europe, and everything we do is of interest.”

In your dreams. Anna crossed her arms and congratulated herself on holding her tongue.

“I have a name in the arts,” Isabela spat. Chiffon ruffles fluttered as she gestured with a plump pale hand. “I’ll be a laughingstock.”

Anna choked back the laughter bubbling up inside her. No sense insulting Naldo’s sister if she could help it. She was his family after all and Naldo was big on family. “I hardly see how, but perhaps you should go back to Paris immediately and try to save your reputation. If you don’t mind, I have dinner to eat.”

“Listen to me.” Finally the glasses came off. Beady black eyes seized Anna’s attention. “If you don’t leave, now, you’ll destroy Naldo the way your mother destroyed our family. You’re casting some kind of sick spell over him, just like your mother did with our father. He’s lost all sense of propriety! You’ve brought nothing but scandal and dishonor to the family since you arrived. Take the money-or don’t take it if you’re too proud and stubborn to admit you need it-but leave before you cause any more damage.”

She turned on her stacked heels and flounced across the unmowed lawn to her car.

Anna leaned against the doorframe, her heart pounding. For a few painful seconds Isabela’s words rang with a degree of convincing truth. But as the sun sank behind the rows of fruit trees, Isabela’s breathless exhortations and any pretense of sense behind them dissipated into the orange-scented evening.