“Go on, sit,” he said, nodding to the chair.
She hesitated, then finally sat. Her body was flushed with arousal, dangerously so. Since arriving at the winery, she’d fought off memories as if they were cobwebs. She flailed at them uselessly, but they clung to her still, subtlety altering her mind and her mood, and hurling her back to the attitude of surrender required of her by his father when she was in this house. Hearing the terse command, she couldn’t stop herself from sitting on cue, as if he were in charge now, which only made her more confused. A little of that sassy, alter-ego brat might have been helpful, might have given her some courage, but she couldn’t seem to raise the wild girl from wherever she lay hiding.
Keeping his eyes on her until she was in the chair, Luke closed the
