Page 58 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
“I’m totally fine, Erin. Trust me.”
“You’re sure you’re safe?”
“Positive.”
And I was. I did feel safe with Lucas.
At least physically.
Emotionally, I was a little less sure.
I glanced over at him again, and my stomach flipped at random things—his hand on the wheel, the V of his thighs on the seat, the hair tousling his face in the wind. Then there was everything that couldn’t be seen—the easy laughter, the sharp memory, the musical talent, the sound of his voice telling me about cathedrals, medieval love stories, Rodin’s sculpture.
And whispering things. Dirty things that set me on fire.
I felt a bolt of arousal between my legs and fidgeted in my seat. Whoa. You’ve had enough for a while, so just relax. Bad enough you had to turn your skirt around to dry off the wet spot on the back.
I brought a hand to my mouth.
Lucas glanced at me. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing. Everything. I’ve come a long way is all.”
He took my hand and kissed the back of it. “Yes, you have.”
#
Lucas hadn’t told me much about the villa itself, but even if he had, words wouldn’t have done it justice. We turned off the main highway and onto a country road that looped through fields and orchards, and I hadn’t seen a farmhouse in a while when Lucas slowed the car in front of a set of iron gates. On either side, a low stone wall rimmed the edge of the property.
I sat up taller in my seat. “Is this the vineyard?”
“No, the vineyard is on the other side of the house. These are just gardens.”
“Gardens? My grandma has a garden, Lucas. This is a fairy tale. It’s unbelievable!”
Lucas smiled at me before punching a code into the entry system keypad on the driver’s side of the wall, and the gates spread.
I craned my neck out the window as we drove up a narrow gravel road flanked on each side by tall skinny bushes that came to a point at the top. They were planted so close together it was hard to see through them, and the house wasn’t visible at the end of the drive. My insides trembled with nerves and excitement as we rounded a bend and the villa came into view.
I gasped. “Oh my God!”
I’d never seen anything like it in real life. Ivy climbed light-colored stone walls, and it stood two and a half stories tall, light blue shutters framing the windows and faded orange tiles on the roof. I could tell it had been expanded, but even the new parts had been carefully constructed to match the original. “How old is it?”
“Eighteenth century, the oldest part, anyway.” Lucas pulled the Toyota around a circular drive, which was lined with boxy shrubs and huge terra cotta flowerpots. “Henri added the newer parts over the last thirty years, I’d say, plus put in a swimming pool and tennis court. His partner, Jean-Paul, is a gardening fanatic, so he’s added some additional gardens and restored some of the old fountains on the property.”
Opening the door, I climbed halfway out of the car and stood on the passenger side running board, looking over the roof at the grounds, which seemed to go on forever. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with a verdant scent that defied description. “God, Lucas. The air here!” I pounded the roof of the car. “I can’t get over it.”
“It’s the lavender fields. And Jean-Paul has a pretty big herb garden too.” He opened the back of the Toyota and pulled out our bags. “After we get settled, I’ll take you on a tour of the property.”
I hopped off the car and shut the door. “Maybe you shouldn’t. I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.”
Lucas smiled at me. “You’d miss the hustle of Detroit sooner or later.”
I lifted my brows. “Um, have you been to Detroit?”
He shook his head.
“I didn’t think so. I love it for its heart and resilience, but it doesn’t look like this.” I swept a hand through the lush air. “And it sure as hell doesn’t smell like this.”
