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  His room was on the second floor of an old farmhouse that overlooked gently rolling hills lined with grapevines. Beyond the greenery, he could see Grand Traverse Bay. As it was after dark, the water appeared pitch black, but he knew, during the daytime, it sparkled and shimmered like it was made of blue diamonds.

  He had planned to rent a boat, tool around the lake for the day with his newly minted wife. Hmm, he needed to decide whether to carry through with that plan, now that he was alone.

  Leo had never vacationed solo before. There had always been a companion, whether he wanted to be with that person or not.

  Funny that he wasn’t even upset that he was, for the first time in his adult life, alone.

  He glanced down, into a courtyard filled with flowers and bushes and discrete landscape lighting, and a lovely dark-haired woman who sat alone at a wrought iron table, a cheese platter and a bottle of wine laid out before her. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she had huge hater-blocker sunglasses hiding half her face, despite the fact that it was almost eleven o’clock in the evening and the sun had set a while ago.

  She wore a loose-fitting dress that looked like it was made of T-shirt material, and had a pair of flip-flops adorned with fake gems on her feet. At least, he assumed they were fake, although maybe she was a movie star with money to burn and they were real. Who the hell knew?

  The pleasantly plump lady who had checked him in a short time ago stepped out of the building and walked over to the brunette. They chatted for a few moments, and then the inn’s proprietor disappeared again.

  He watched for a while, finishing his second glass of sparkling wine, but no one joined the pretty woman. Was it possible she was here alone as well? What were the odds?

  Hell, for all he knew, they were excellent odds. Outside of business dealings, Leo was bad about paying attention to the world around him. If he had been more focused, he surely would have realized his fiancée had been fucking his errant brother’s best friend.

  He was certainly embarrassed, but he wasn’t about to spend this impromptu solo vacation moping and feeling sorry for himself.

  Also, why should it be solo? He was beholden to no one; after walking in on Bridgette bent over a table in the bride’s room at the church, getting pounded by some guy who wasn’t her soon-to-be husband, Leo had every right to head downstairs and make friends with the beautiful and enticingly casual brunette.

  He filled his glass again, then snagged the bottle and the other flute and headed downstairs.

  “Oh, hello, Mr. Beneventi,” Maureen, the owner of the B&B, greeted him as he strode through the dining room toward the courtyard. “How is your room? Everything to your liking?”

  Except for the absence of another body to warm the bed, but honestly, that wasn’t a bad thing. Bridgette had been something of a dead fish fuck anyway. Although, after witnessing how animated she was with Davit, it was obvious the woman simply hadn’t been attracted to Leo. If he gave a shit what other people thought, he might be embarrassed over that.

  He was an attractive guy, and he liked to think he had a fun personality. And if that weren’t enough, he was pretty fucking wealthy, although that wasn’t something he liked to throw around because it attracted people like, well, Bridgette.

  What he wasn’t was a bad boy, which was Bridgette’s excuse for taking it up the ass from a guy who wasn’t her betrothed, in the church, during her wedding rehearsal.

  “The flower petals and champagne were a nice touch,” he said, tongue-in-cheek, and then winced when his hostess’s face practically collapsed.

  “I’m so sorry. I simply adjusted the reservation date, not the notes, and my housekeeper had already—”

  He waved the bottle, cutting off her apology. “It’s fine, Maureen, seriously. Besides, this sparkling wine more than makes up for it. Is it local?”

  She nodded, her cheeks pinking. “It’s one of our best sellers.”

  “As it should be. Tell me, that absolutely lovely woman out there, is she here alone too?”

  Maureen glanced out the glass door and nodded. “She is. And she really is quite lovely. Seems sad, though.” She turned back to him, her eyes shining. “Maybe you can change that.”

  Leo chuckled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I was supposed to be here with my new wife, remember? The last thing I need is to jump into another relationship right now. I was just thinking in terms of someone to help me finish this bottle.”

  “Go. Offer to share.” Maureen made a shooing motion with her hands. “I’ll cut up some fruit, find a little chocolate and bring it out to you.”

  Fruit and chocolate? Did she miss the part about not being interested in starting up another relationship? Shaking his head, Leo went outside.

  The brunette glanced up, but it was hard to judge her reaction to him standing there under the drooping branches of a willow tree, because those glasses legitimately covered half her face. As she started to turn her head back to her table, he gave the bottle a little shake.

  “Care to share?”

  She didn’t react. She just sat there, unmoving. It was unnerving, to say the least. Luckily, Leo wasn’t afraid of rejection, and he’d already downed two glasses, so liquid courage and all that. He took a couple steps toward her.

  “I’d rather be alone.” Her voice was cool, crisp, left no room for argument. Maybe, instead of an actress, she was a defense attorney when she wasn’t vacationing alone on the Leelanau Peninsula.

  “Okay, that’s fine.” He placed the bottle and flutes on the table next to hers and then filled the empty one. “Here you go.” He set it next to her elbow and retreated to his own table, sitting and pulling out his phone because staring at the scenery, nice as it was, felt awkward after her brushoff.

  “Why are you giving me a glass of champagne?” she asked.

  “It’s sparkling wine, actually. Made right here, from some of those grapes out there.” He waved in the general direction of the rolling hills he had admired from his balcony.

  “Okay. Why did you give me a glass of sparkling wine?”

  “Because I like to share, and you’re here.” He shrugged. “Don’t drink it if you don’t want to, but don’t let Maureen know you weren’t interested. She’s pretty proud of this stuff.” He raised his glass in mock toast and then took a swig. “Rightly so, I might add.”

  She stared at the bubbles rising in the blush-colored liquid.

  “You’re not worried I spiked it, I hope.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

  He turned in his chair so that he was fully facing her. “Seriously? Has that happened to you before?”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Holy shit, I’m so sorry.” He leapt up and swiped the glass off the table.

  “What are you doing?”

  He tipped it to his mouth and drained the contents. “I don’t want you to think I’m one of those assholes. When I want to have sex with women, I make my moves the old-fashioned way.”

  Her lips quirked. They were shiny, like she was wearing gloss maybe, but there was no tint to it. He liked it.

  “What’s the old-fashioned way?” she asked.

  “Dinner. Movie. I’d go with a really scary one or a super romantic one, depending on her preference.”

  “What if she doesn’t like movies?”

  “Have you ever met someone who doesn’t like movies?”

  “Fine. What if she prefers less…ordinary ways to be wooed?”

  He flipped his own chair around so that he could straddle it, then swiped his glass off the table before leaning his forearms on the back of the chair. “Oh, I totally got this.”

  A dark eyebrow lifted above the lens of her sunglasses.

  “Set the scene for me. Are we talking city or someplace like this?”

  “That matters?”

  “Hell yes. Very different experiences.”

  She nodded once. “Okay. Let’s go with…here.”

  In his mind he
sorted through all the various excursions he’d been excited to try while he and Bridgette honeymooned here in the Traverse City area. Bridgette hadn’t been nearly as enthusiastic as he was, which had resulted in him booking a follow-up trip to LA so she could shop on Rodeo Drive.

  He needed to remember to have his admin cancel those plans. He’d had pretty much zero desire to take that trip even when he thought he was still marrying Bridgette, let alone now.

  Fisting his hand, he flipped out fingers one by one. “Winery tours for sure. And a trip to a local distillery. Oh, and an entire day spent exploring the antiques shops over on the Old Mission peninsula. Maybe Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes, if that was her thing.”

  The woman’s mouth fell open for a moment, but she snapped it shut again. After clearing her throat, she said, “That’s a lot. I’m not sure she’d be up for sex after so much activity.”

  He chuckled. “We could spread it out over the course of several days. I’m here for a week, after all.”

  “Are these your plans for the week? Alone?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  She paused. “It sounds like fun.”

  He drained his glass, hopped up to refill it. Maybe he didn’t need to share after all. That stuff was going down far too easily.

  “If the offer still stands, I’d love to try a glass.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. She’d removed her sunglasses.

  Holy shit, was she ever gorgeous. Huge blue eyes rimmed with thick, dark lashes. High cheekbones, smooth forehead. And not a lick of makeup, or if she was wearing it, it was the kind that made a woman look like she wasn’t wearing any.

  “Yes, of course. Happy to share.” He filled both glasses, handed her one of them.

  She lifted it, looked at the word carved into the bowl, then arched her brows again.

  He sighed and slumped into his chair. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Oh, I think I very much do.” There was laughter in her voice, which he liked. Maureen was right; when he first approached, sadness had radiated off her in almost palpable waves. Had she been jilted at the altar too? It was wedding season, after all.

  He waved at the old farmhouse behind them. “This was supposed to be my honeymoon. First honeymoon, that is. Did you know that, apparently, these days, you’re supposed to go on multiple honeymoons? Many-moons, I’m told, is what this recent fad is called.”

  “There are several aspects of that I’d like to dissect. But first, tell me about this honeymoon I’m guessing isn’t happening?” She sipped at the sparkling wine, then stared at the glass. “Wow, this is seriously excellent.”

  “Told you.”

  She acknowledged his comment with a lift of her glass, and then drank again. “So, honeymoon.”

  “I was supposed to get married. Tomorrow.”

  “And yet, here you are, presumably alone.”

  “That I am.”

  “And?”

  “And I called off the wedding. Today. In the middle of the rehearsal.”

  She stared at him. “This conversation feels a bit like pulling teeth.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry. It’s just not a fun story to tell. I walked in on her screwing somebody else.”

  His companion winced. “Ouch.”

  He nodded. “Her parents were running late. We were waiting for them so we could get started with the rehearsal. Which was at a church, by the way, so at least I know my ex-fiancée is most definitely not going to heaven. Anyway, when her parents finally arrived, I went looking for her, and found more than I bargained for.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Agreed. So I told her to screw herself—”

  “Is that really the word you used?”

  “Nope.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Thanks. So I tracked down my parents, told them the wedding was cancelled, and I went home and grabbed my bag and headed up here. Alone.”

  “Wow.” She took another drink. “You don’t seem terribly broken up.”

  He lifted one shoulder, let it drop. “It was an arranged marriage.”

  Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Yep. And trust me, that will never happen again. Business and sex should not mix.”

  Chapter Four

  She cleared her throat. “We haven’t even exchanged names. I’m Shannon.” She offered her hand to shake.

  He slid his palm against hers, grasping her fingers, and shook as if she were a business associate and not a dainty woman. Not that she was dainty; on the contrary, she was taller than average, but that was how men generally treated her when they first met her.

  “Leo. Well, Leonardo, but please, call me Leo. Pleasure to meet you, Shannon.” He snagged the bottle of champagne—sorry, sparkling wine—from the other table, topped off both their glasses, and placed it next to the picked over cheese tray spread out before her.

  “Would you like some cheese? There isn’t much left, but you’re welcome to it.”

  Before he could respond, the glass door opened, and Maureen bustled over, her arms laden with plates of food.

  “I whipped this together from what was left over from dinner earlier,” the inn’s owner explained as she placed sliced meats, more cheese, crackers, fruits, and a freaking fondue pot of chocolate on their table.

  “I like the dinners around here,” Leo quipped, which made Maureen blush and Shannon smile.

  This was crazy.

  And fun.

  Unless he was a hell of an actor, Leo was nothing at all like the men who had come and gone in her life. He didn’t seem to care about her casual appearance, he wasn’t fazed by his failed-before-it-started marriage, and he accepted a no for what it was without any sort of cajoling.

  In fact, the only red flag was his arranged marriage.

  While Leo devoured the food Maureen brought out, Shannon leaned forward, her glass dangling from her fingertips. “What do you do for a living, Leo?”

  He raised a finger while he finished chewing the cheese- topped cracker he’d popped into his mouth, then chased it with a swig of wine.

  “That sounds like you’re trying to figure out if I have money.”

  She fell back against her chair. “What? I don’t care about your money.” Why was she suddenly so indignant?

  “No? What if I told you I don’t have a job? Or any money?”

  “I’d say you’re a liar because as I’m staying here, I know how expensive this place is. And arranged marriages only happen in very wealthy, influential, and/or powerful families.”

  “Ah. So you come from my world, do you?”

  She had just reached for her glass as he said it. Her hand jerked, and the flute would have tumbled to a fate as a pile of shattered crystal on the flagstones if he hadn’t reacted quickly and grabbed it. Unfortunately, his save resulted it him getting doused with sparkling wine.

  “Oh, no, I’m so sorry.” She swiped up her napkin and dabbed at his drenched shirt.

  “It’s okay, it’s just a T-shirt. I have half a dozen more upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

  Before she could suggest he simply take it off so she could admire those muscles that the wet shirt was now plastered to, he jumped up and hurried inside.

  Which was just as well. The guy was coming off what had to be a humiliating experience, and she had no earthly idea how to respond to a man who wasn’t a client anymore, so the last thing that needed to happen was the two of them, alone, with him half naked.

  She might actually consider having sex for reasons that weren’t associated with cold, hard cash. Or, credit card transactions, as it were.

  As soon as he returned, she filled his glass, emptying the bottle of sparkling wine. “No, you can have it,” he said, pushing the flute into her hand.

  “I still have my wine over here,” she pointed out.

  “Okay, fine.” He sat. “But if you’d rather have this, I can ask Maureen to bring another bottle.”

  She lifted her gl
ass of cab franc. “I’m good.”

  “Okay, so where were we? Oh yeah, talking about what we’re doing tomorrow.”

  “We?”

  “Sure,” he said easily. “I’m going to climb Sleeping Bear Dunes. What are you doing?”

  A laugh burst from her mouth. Shannon tried to remember the last time she’d laughed, really laughed, carefree and happy and uncaring what anyone might think about the sound. And with a stranger at that.

  It had been a really, really long time.

  “Um, I thought…” She thought he was going to ask her to join him. Or maybe even presume she would join him. But he didn’t. He was talking to her as if they were friendly acquaintances, on their own individual vacations.

  She toyed with a napkin Maureen had brought with the food. “I don’t know.” Glancing at Leo from under her lashes, she said, “Maybe I’ll go to the dunes too.”

  “Oh yeah? How about we go together?”

  Shannon instantly stiffened. “Did you just manipulate me?” Her voice was so low it was practically a hiss.

  He blinked slowly. “No. I mean, yes, I think it would be cool if we went together, but you said you wanted to be alone so I didn’t want to assume anything.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask me then?”

  “Fear of rejection?”

  “Why did you just word that as a question?”

  “Because you’ve gone from relaxed and happy to borderline furious and I have no idea why, and I’d rather not piss you off any further.”

  She shook her head. He was right. She’d immediately gone onto the defensive, and honestly, he hadn’t given her any reason to do so. “I’m sorry.”

  He flapped his hand. “Don’t be. Are you here because of a relationship gone bad too?”

  A laugh burst from her lips before she could contain it. If he only knew. Which he wouldn’t, ever. The only time Shannon dwelled on that period of her life was when her subconscious didn’t give her a choice, and she never, ever spoke of it.

  “To be perfectly honest, I’m here because I want to be Maureen someday.”

  Leo glanced over his shoulder. “Does Maureen know you plan to possess her body?”