ibérico was calling Landon’s name—and several excellent cheeses, a harmonious mix of soft and creamy, sharp and pungent, and hard and nutty varieties. Ripe, late-summer berries and juicy, deep orange cantaloupes added splashes of color to the white tablecloth. Aria set down fresh, colorful salads, one after the other—curried Israeli couscous; balsamic-glazed arugula and strawberry salad; and pear, goat cheese, and walnut salad. It was Aria’s signature feast.
“Did you and Lucien clean out the delicatessen?” Landon reached for a spear of truffle gouda, but Aria slapped his hand away and made a fist in his face. “Fine. I’ll wait.”
Aubrey giggled at his side, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Amused, are we?”
Ridiculously aware he was showing off, he swiped a fig from the table and held it up as his trophy. He tossed the ripe bundle into the air, intending to catch it deftly in his mouth, but Aubrey’s hand shot out and intercepted it. With a smug grin, she bit into the fruit and then licked the sticky juice from her lips. Landon’s breath caught in his throat, and blood rushed south.
Does she have any idea of the effect she has on me?
By the playful twinkle in her eyes, she had no clue how sexy she looked eating that fig. Only when he grabbed her wrist and brought the other half to his mouth did her eyes widen with awareness. He was careful not to let his lips touch her fingers because that would’ve sent him over the edge. But Aubrey’s lashes fluttered as a shiver ran through her, and he reached out to throw her on the table.
“Should we start with one bottle, or should I just open all three?” Lucien’s musings pulled Landon out of his lust haze. Barely.
“All of them.” He badly needed a drink. He turned on his heels and strode to the kitchen. “I’ll get the glasses.”
Aria shot him a narrow-eyed glance. His voice probably sounded as strangled as he felt. He’d nearly ravished Aubrey on the dining table. In front of his friends. He would be shocked if he sounded normal.
Even his complete loss of control didn’t douse his desire, and the effort it took to not ogle at Aubrey nearly gave him an aneurysm. It wasn’t until they were well into their second bottle of wine that Landon trusted himself to look her way.
Her head was thrown back in full-throttle laughter at something Aria was saying. Her eyes were scrunched shut, and little ridges formed at the bridge of her nose. She was radiant. Landon chugged another glass of wine.
Everyone was coaxed into a languid mood, and happiness laced through the idyllic evening. Landon finally allowed himself to relax. His wine-addled brain reasoned that he’d had it all wrong from the beginning.
Of course we could make love to each other. It wouldn’t ruin their careers because no one would know. He would have her—their attraction couldn’t be fought—but he would protect her by keeping their affair a secret. Simple.
Weeks of frustration released its death grip from his lungs. Leaning back against his chair, Landon watched Aria for a few seconds as she sipped her third glass of wine. Then, he brought his lips to Aubrey’s ear.
“I think she’s ready.”
“Ready for what?” Aubrey whispered.
“Just watch and enjoy.” He grinned and turned to the other side of the table and did his best impression of a medieval king. “The night is young, and we must have music.”
“Absolument. We must have the greatest of all music.” Lucien joined in without hesitation, winking at Aubrey. “Opera.”
“Idiots, both of you.” Aria rolled her eyes and leaned toward Aubrey. “They think they can make me perform like a parrot whenever I get tipsy. But I’m far from tipsy tonight.”
“Will flattery work, then?” Landon said. “Signorina Santini, your sublime voice will make us mortals weep and the heavenly angels sigh.”
“Your voice is as beautiful as you are, ma chérie. It’s indeed a gift from God,” Lucien said, grasping Aria’s hand to shower it with adoring kisses. She laughed and slapped at the Frenchman’s shoulder.
“I’d love to hear you sing.” Aubrey’s soft request was shy but sincere.
“Fine. It’s a democracy, no? Three to one means I must sing.” Aria smiled at Aubrey but narrowed her eyes at Landon and Lucien. “Pick a song for me.”
“How about ‘Un bel dì vedremo’ from Madame Butterfly?” Lucien suggested.
“Well, I guess you can never go wrong with Puccini.” Aria shrugged, giving in with a grin. “It’s one of my favorite pieces. It pushes