The woman grinned. “It will help.”
While Noelle chatted with Louis’s wife, Christian cleaned off Marc’s feet and wrangled him back into his socks and shoes. Hand in hand they then walked in her direction.
“Did you see how good I stomped, Mama?” Marc ran in place, demonstrating his winning technique. He gripped a bottle of sparkling grape juice, his prize for winning.
“I did.” She noticed Marc hadn’t released Christian’s hand. Her chest tightened, but she offered her son a proud smile. “You are the best grape stomper in all Sherdana.”
“He certainly is,” Christian said, his gaze fond as it rested on Marc. “Are you ready to head back to the castle?”
“I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. And someone needs a bath.” She gazed pointedly at her son’s feet.
“No, Mama. I want to show everyone at school that I stomped grapes.”
“You can tell them about it,” Noelle countered.
To her surprise, Marc didn’t argue further. Instead, he waved goodbye to his new friends and trotted ahead of his parents to the lot where Christian’s car waited.
On the way back to Bracci Castle, Marc’s excited chatter gave way to silence.
Christian glanced over his shoulder. “He’s out.”
“Not surprising.” Noelle felt a yawn coming on. The slow country pace combined with the delicious, filling lunch was making her sleepy. “I guess his bath will have to wait until later.”
“I could use a nap myself,” Christian said. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
Noelle ignored the pointed look he shot her way. “That’s odd. You were in bed by eleven.”
“Yes, but I had a very eventful evening and couldn’t figure out why it came to such an abrupt end.”
“Perhaps because it wouldn’t do for the eventfulness to become common knowledge.”
“Why not when it’s only a matter of time before we make our relationship official?”
“You seem very sure that’s how things will go.”
“I’m not so much confident as determined. Now that Marc is getting more accustomed to me, I expect to spend a lot more time with him. Which means you’ll also be seeing more of me. You can’t resist me forever.”
Noelle sighed. Truth was, she couldn’t resist him at all.
* * *
Christian slid into a charcoal-gray suit coat and straightened his blue-gray tie. The full-length mirror in his Carone apartment dressing room reflected back a somber aristocrat with chiseled features and wary eyes. It was not the face of a man about to propose to the mother of his son.
Since returning from the weekend at Bracci Castle five days ago, Christian had spent every evening with Noelle and Marc. They’d dined at her farmhouse, the palace and the restaurant that served American burgers. Tonight, however, he’d arranged for a private yacht to take Noelle and him on a romantic cruise down the river. During dinner, he planned to officially ask her to be his wife. On his nightstand sat the five-carat princess-cut diamond she would be wearing three hours from now.
As his driver wove through Carone’s streets on the way out of the city, Christian reflected that he wasn’t giving Noelle the time she’d asked for to decide if this was the right future for her and Marc. Last weekend it had been easy to promise her space. They’d reconnected both physically and emotionally. But these past five days had been hell.
He wanted to wake up with Noelle and have breakfast with Marc. To throw the ball with his son in the evenings and read him a bedtime story before taking Noelle in his arms and spending the night making love to her. A chaste good-night kiss at eight o’clock was completely unsatisfying.
When the car stopped in Noelle’s driveway, Christian didn’t wait for the driver to open his door. He was impatient to see Noelle and get their evening started. Before he could knock, Noelle’s front door whipped open and Marc grinned at him from the foyer.
“Mama,” he called, whirling on stocking feet and racing back into the house. “Prince Papa is here.”
The blending of his two titles continued to amuse Christian. He suspected that the “prince” half would eventually go away. Until then, he was satisfied that his son had accepted Christian’s role in his life.
“Marc, I’m right here,” his mother admonished as she emerged from the main living room. “There’s no reason to shout.”
Christian stepped into the house and shut the door behind him. Word was out that he and Noelle had been spending time together, and he didn’t want any telescopic lenses capturing the kiss he was about to give her.
Tonight’s dress was a retro-style teal silk with a matching long-sleeve coat. The hemline was a bit shorter than usual and displayed a tantalizing amount of shapely leg. She wore her hair in an elegant topknot that he couldn’t wait to dishevel. Simple pearls adorned her delicate earlobes, and a matching strand encircled her neck. She gave him a welcoming smile, and he stepped forward to draw her firmly into his embrace.
The warm feminine scent of her made his head spin as he claimed her mouth in a tender, poignant kiss. He kept a ruthless hold on his libido. This was not the time nor the place to show her how five days of abstinence had driven him mad with longing. They had all evening and much of the night for him to demonstrate how fully beneath her spell he’d fallen.
“Shall we go?” he purred beside her ear, feeling the shiver that passed through her muscles. “I have a full night planned.”
She pulled back and regarded him with alarm. “I can’t stay out all night. Marc gets up early and will expect me to be here.”
“I will have you back before the roosters start to crow.” For most people this would only be a saying, but in fact Noelle kept several chickens on her acre of land, and Marc had mentioned the rooster’s predawn bugling several times.
“Thank you.”
Christian held her hand as the town car wove through Carone to where the yacht was moored. Earlier that day, he’d prepared a speech. It ran through his mind like a hamster on a wheel and he found himself oddly tongue-tied. Thankfully, Noelle had never been bothered by silence between them, but tonight her tranquil acceptance offered him no solace.
After boarding the yacht, Christian led her to the salon. The September warm spell would enable them to enjoy a romantic dinner on deck where they could observe the lights of the city reflecting off the water as dusk became night. But that would come later. He had something he needed to get out of the way first.
A bottle of champagne was chilling in a silver bucket on the bar. Two tall flutes stood beside it, waiting to be filled. Christian had asked for privacy during this cruise except while dinner was being served. He wanted no audience this evening. Since the champagne had been opened, all Christian had to do was pour the sparkling liquid and hand Noelle a glass. He was happy to see that his hands didn’t shake as he clinked his flute with hers.
“To us.” He felt rather than heard his voice break awkwardly and swallowed far too much of the fizzy wine. The bubbles burned as they went down, and he coughed.
