Satisfaction Read online

  “I apologize for not calling to let you know. Like I said, it was very last-minute—”

  “Believe me, it’s okay,” Sophia murmured, eyeing Ethan. She gave him a thorough examination as he busied himself retrieving Georgie’s overnight bag and laptop from the trunk. Tilting her head, she mused, “He’s awfully young to be a feng shui master. And he doesn’t look Chinese at all.”

  “Oh, well, he’s a very old, uh, soul. Reincarnated many, many times.” She gulped some air. “He is Chinese, actually, a little. Way back. Way, way back. A great-great-great-grandfather or something.”

  “Hmm.” Sophia tapped a painted nail to her full lips. “Yes, I think I see it a little, around the eyes, maybe. And he does have that dark hair.” Her brow lowered as though she’d just had a disturbing thought. “So are feng shui masters like monks? Does he, you know, like, abstain?”

  “Yes,” Georgie hurried, then slowed to consider the implications of what she’d just said. “Uh, why, yeah, actually. They’re exactly like monks. Absolutely no sex.”

  “Never?” Sophia’s greedy eyes looked disappointed.

  Georgie leaned forward in a conspiratorial way. “Never. They can’t, you see. They’re, uh, well, it’s because they’re, uh…eunuchs.”

  Sophia’s eyes widened. “No!”

  Georgie shrugged and gave her hostess a sad but true look.

  She wanted to laugh out loud. She’d fix his wagon for barging in on her plans this weekend, kissing her until she ached with lust, then leaving her hanging. Sophia wouldn’t come on to him now, plus the Giordanos would never suspect Ethan was a detective or her bodyguard, or that she was in any kind of trouble. Damn, she was clever! She felt so relieved, her knees nearly buckled.

  “You see, feng shui masters must keep their minds clear,” she elaborated, warming to her subject. “Abstinence is a huge, huge, huge part of their being able to focus entirely on the basic principles of feng shui, and not become distracted by tawdry physical desires.” She wrinkled her nose in feigned disgust.

  Sophia shook her head and narrowed one eye. “You sure couldn’t tell by looking. Kind of pitiful, when you think about it. I mean, he’s so…so…”

  “Hot?”

  “Yeah, that’s the word, all right.”

  Georgie nodded in fake empathy. “I hear you, sistah. A real loss to womankind.”

  “Yeah,” Sophia said absently. “I didn’t think I’d ever find myself drooling over a feng shui master.” She squinted her eyes and stared directly at Ethan’s crotch. “Those jeans don’t hide much. I’d swear, if I didn’t know better…”

  “Bunched denim,” Georgie assured her with a knowing nod. “Sitting in the car will do that. Trust me. Nothing there.”

  Both women watched Ethan close the trunk and stalk toward them, graceful and predatory, like a strong, healthy animal. For a moment, she nearly smiled. He really was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen.

  Next to her, Sophia gasped deep in her throat. Shaking her head, she murmured, “Are you positive that’s just bunched denim? I mean, it sure looks to me like he’s got an enormous—”

  “Try not to stare,” Georgie admonished softly, so the object of their discussion couldn’t hear. “Makes him feel self-conscious.”

  “Ah. Sure. Of course. Sorry.”

  He stopped in front of them. Removing his dark glasses, he flicked a look at Georgie. His hazel eyes snapped with intelligence…and suspicion. Then he smiled at her, a sort of secret smile, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  For all his arrogance and pigheadedness, he could be a real nice man. He had a gruff, dictatorial manner, but there was always that elusive something in his eyes when he looked at her that spoke of deeply held convictions, compassion, honesty. Qualities that drew her in, making her want to get closer to him, maybe even learn to trust him.

  “Um, Ethan, this is our hostess.”

  He extended his hand. “Plea sure to meet you, Ms. Giordano.”

  “Please call me Sophia.” Georgie watched as the two shook hands. Sophia grinned up at Ethan like Santa had finally brought her that spotted pony she’d been waiting for all her life. Then her smile faltered a bit, as though she suddenly reminded herself of Ethan’s “condition.”

  “Do I call you Master?” she asked.

  “Excuse me? I—”

  “Oh!” Georgie intervened. “Yes, um, well, Ethan, I mean, Master Ethan…I’ve been telling Sophia how you’re my feng shui guru, and how you guided me through every decorating and lifestyle decision I’ve ever made, and how you wanted to come with me this weekend, in spite of my many, many, many, ma-n-n-ny protests that it would take you away from your very important work, but that you, knowing what a devoted follower of the discipline Sophia is, insisted on coming along, in spite of those many aforementioned protests.” She gave a little high-pitched musical laugh and sent him her biggest grin. “It might be nice, though, if you could loosen the rules a little, just for the weekend, so we can all address you as Ethan instead of…Master?”

  Time stood still. He gazed down into her eyes for what seemed an eternity. Except for the muscle working in his jaw, his face gave nothing away.

  She fluttered her lashes, smiling hopefully.

  He blinked, and a glint of something akin to malicious mischief appeared in his sharp hazel eyes.

  She was in trouble.

  His gaze never leaving hers, he sketched a brief, mocking bow.

  “Sorry, but the rules are clear,” he stated. “You will call me Master.” He pinned her with a meaningful glare. “Grasshopper.”

  She bristled. So he was going to play rough, was he? Well, she’d see about that.

  “This is fantastic!” Sophia said, apparently oblivious to the battered gauntlet lying in the dust between her two house guests. As she took Georgie’s arm, she cooed, “Everyone’s so looking forward to meeting you. And bringing Master Ethan is the frosting on the cake!”

  “Ev-everyone?” Georgie breathed, panic suddenly overtaking her. “You mean your family?”

  “Not just my family.”

  As Ethan picked up the overnight bag and laptop with his left hand, Sophia hooked his right and began walking the three of them toward the house.

  “Everyone is a couple of dozen of your biggest fans, Georgie. Hey, you’re a celebrity!” Was it Georgie’s imagination, or was Sophia’s suddenly very toothy smile painted on?

  “As soon as some of my friends and neighbors found out the famous Georgiana Mundy was researching a show on Napa Valley wines…”

  Yeah. Painted on. Definitely.

  “…and that you were going to be my house guest this weekend, wild horses couldn’t have kept them away. They’re all having lunch on the terrace in back. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. You don’t have to pay a whole lot of attention to them. They just wanted to meet you.”

  Kiss, kiss, hug, hug, and all that.

  “That’ll be fine,” Georgie said. “I’ll be happy to meet them. I enjoy meeting my fans. I really do.”

  And normally she did, but now, with the feng shui “master” thing, and the eunuch thing…oh, no…what had she done? She’d had no idea anyone else was going to be around. Well, maybe Sophia wouldn’t say anything to them.

  “Hmm. One problem, though,” Sophia remarked, as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “All the guest rooms are filled. But we’ll figure it out. We certainly want a man of Master Ethan’s stature to have his own room, so I’ll give him yours, Georgie, and we’ll find something else for you.” The trio started up the steps. “Nonna has twin beds in her room, and she doesn’t snore too loudly anymore since the doctor put her on those new meds. And she usually takes her teeth out at night, so you won’t have to worry about her grinding them. And if the yelling in her sleep gets to you, well, there’s always earplugs.” She scrunched her nose and nodded. “Nightmares.”

  Sophia was giving away her room to Ethan? She was going to have to bunk with Sophia’s snoring, tooth-gna
shing, nocturnally garrulous grandmother? Not bloody likely!

  With a placid smile, Georgie said, “Ethan’s not all that special. He doesn’t really need—”

  “So sorry young Grasshopper has forgotten her manners,” Ethan interrupted in an imperious tone. “Master Ethan, please to remember.” He arched a dark brow. “Simply ‘Master’ will do, of course.”

  “Of course,” Georgie said through clenched teeth. “Many apologies, Master. Sophia, why don’t you go on ahead? Master Ethan and I need to discuss the proper feng shui positioning of…” My knee in his groin, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “My, uh, laptop. I need to set it up somewhere where it will allow my thinking to be clear.”

  “No problem,” Sophia said, then walked a few steps ahead. “I’ll meet you two on the terrace.” With a smile, she pushed open the door and disappeared inside the villa.

  As soon as she was gone, Ethan grabbed Georgie’s arm and growled, “Why in the hell did you tell her that? I don’t know a fucking thing about feng shui—”

  “It doesn’t matter, Master,” she snapped. “She’s been practicing feng shui for years. Just compliment everything in sight, and leave it at that.”

  “What if she asks me about the technicalities of feng shui theory, or wants an opinion on the color of her underpants?”

  “When exactly are you planning on seeing her underpants?”

  “That’s beside the point! What am I supposed to tell her?”

  “I don’t know! Say something inscrutable. It shouldn’t be a stretch. Hell, you do it to me all the time!” She scowled. “And I want my room back, Master Frickin’ Darling. No way I’m giving up a private room in this luscious villa to you, so I can sleep in an itty-bitty twin bed in Grandma’s room. You horned in on my weekend, so you can just sleep in your stupid car, for all I care!”

  He presented her with an exaggerated pout and drawled sarcastically, “Now, is that any way to treat the man who has guided you through every decorating and lifestyle decision you’ve ever made?”

  “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Like you could,” he muttered under his breath. Her suitcase and laptop in his left hand, he slipped his right arm through hers. “Come on, Grasshopper. It’s showtime. Remember to keep a simpering look on your face, ask me often if there’s anything you can get for me, and occasionally bow respectfully.”

  “In your dreams,” she groused.

  They stepped through the threshold and into the grand foyer. Light and airy, it was filled with afternoon sunlight from the arched windows that reached nearly to the ceiling. The high walls had been covered with trompe l’oeil images of the rolling green, blue, and gold hills of Tuscany, while small olive, cypress, and poplar trees in enormous terra-cotta planters sat on the tile floor, complementing the gardenlike illusion.

  As they walked through the living room, Georgie noted the tasteful and muted earth tones in both the furnishings and artwork. Excellent feng shui. What an incredibly lovely place for Sophia to live. The bitch.

  “Remember what I said,” Georgie whispered, a smile plastered on her face. “Just keep your comments vague and your opinions obscure, and nobody will be the wiser. Most people don’t know a thing about feng shui, so they’ll probably ignore you all day.”

  The sounds of laughter and conversation trickled off to silence as Georgie and Ethan stood in the open threshold that led to the terrace. Everyone looked at her for a moment, then, as if on some unseen cue, two dozen pairs of eyes slowly left her face to drift toward Ethan, where two dozen curious gazes came to rest…on his crotch.

  “Everybody,” Sophia said as she approached them from a nearby table where she’d been chatting in close quarters with an older couple, “this is my special guest, Georgiana Mundy.”

  She smiled her best TV smile, and was rewarded when all two dozen guests grinned at her and applauded.

  “And her personal feng shui guru, Master Ethan,” Sophia continued. She beamed with obvious delight, flicked a quick glance at Ethan’s beltline, then arched a brow at Georgie.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Georgie saw the wine steward smirk, the woman serving canapés titter, and the violinist by the dessert table raise his instrument and resume playing, a sardonic grin on his face.

  None of this was apparently lost on Ethan, who reached out and snared her arm, tugging her so close, she could see every gold fleck in his eyes.

  “Grasshopper,” he said lightly, belying the iron grip he had on her, “is there some little detail about being a feng shui master you forgot to mention?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Long live the queen—the queen-sized bed, that is! Sleeping on a mattress the size of Rhode Island won’t spark intimacy, so lose the king, and get yourself a comfy queen-sized bed, then snuggle up and let nature take its delicious course.

  Georgiana Mundy’s Feng Shui for Lovers

  Georgie blinked up into Ethan’s accusing gaze, unsure how she should answer. If he found out what she’d told Sophia—who obviously hadn’t waited more than a gnat’s heartbeat to spread the word—he’d kill her. Really, he would.

  Swallowing, she gathered her courage. With a bright smile, she turned her face away from the murmuring crowd. Under her breath, she said, “You have to understand, I was really, really mad at you for commandeering my life. So, uh, I may have given Sophia the wrong impression of…certain things.”

  His grip tightened. He wasn’t hurting her, but there was no way she’d be able to escape his grasp without pulling out a gun and shooting him. And even then…

  “What did you tell her?” he bit out.

  Georgie swallowed again. “It’s nothing terrible,” she insisted. “I told Sophia that you were Chinese. Partly.”

  “Well, judging from the direction of their stares, I’d have to ask which part.”

  She snorted a laugh, but didn’t elaborate.

  He cocked his head and eyed her for a moment. “That’s it? They’re all staring at my fly because they think I’m partly Chinese? What do they think I’ve got in there, a firecracker?”

  “You tell me,” she quipped, thrilled he’d bought the half-truth. When he looked as though he might just answer, she rushed, “Actually, it’s not your crotch they’re looking at, it’s your eyes they’re avoiding looking at. I told Sophia that it was disrespectful to look a feng shui master in the eye. I imagine they’re all simply trying to show you their, uh, reverence.”

  He tugged at her arm and raised her face, forcing her to look him in the eye.

  “You don’t seem to have any trouble being irreverent to your feng shui master.”

  “Well, I’m a close, uh, personal friend. It’s different. Besides, we both know you’re not a real feng shui master.”

  “Listen, Grasshopper,” he drawled. “I’m not sure I’m buying your story, but unless you want the truth to come out, you’d better start staring at my crotch like you mean business.”

  Georgie felt her knees go weak and her throat close. “Not a problem.”

  Sophia, who’d been pouring wine for a couple at a table across the terrace, rushed back to them. “No fun hogging all of Master Ethan’s time,” she interrupted, grinning at Ethan. Taking his arm, she yanked him away from Georgie and guided him to the middle of the terrace.

  Immediately the assembled guests and staff showed Ethan their veneration with curious stares and pursed lips. Two of the men winked.

  Georgie put her fingers to her mouth, biting her lip to keep from busting out laughing.

  “Master Ethan,” Sophia said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “Why don’t you sit right down here at my table, and let me serve you some of the best Cabernet on the planet? Our ’94 was an exquisite year.”

  She led Ethan to a chair, leaving Georgie to follow in their wake. It seemed her “celebrity” status had taken a backseat to one gorgeous hunk of fake feng shui master.

  Once the three of them were seated, the rest of the guests returned to their meals, but their e
yes never strayed far from Ethan.

  As Sophia filled their glasses with the dark ruby liquid, she gestured with her free hand to the terrace, stuffed to overflowing with baskets of red, pink, and yellow flowers, potted acacia palms and ferns, and glazed planters offering variegated crotons, philodendrons, and mother-in law’s tongue.

  “Tell me, Master Ethan,” Sophia cooed. “Does the feng shui of the terrace meet with your approval?”

  For a moment he looked a little nervous, then he picked up his wineglass, took a sip, and settled imperially back into his white wrought-iron chair. With a quick glance at Georgie, he said, “Green is for healing.”

  “So it is!” burst Sophia. “I knew I’d done the right thing by spacing the tables just this way, and decorating with plants. I’m thrilled you sanction what I’ve done, Master. It is healing out here, isn’t it? After a long, hard day in the vineyards…”

  Georgie took a bite of her salad and relaxed while Sophia emoted for the next twenty minutes on how she had used color and lighting, vegetation and various textures to create the proper chi throughout the villa. All the while, Ethan said nothing, but nodded at the appropriate times and occasionally threw in a knowing, “Ah, so,” then returned to his meal.

  What a ham. Olivier had nothing on Ethan Darling.

  After lunch, Sophia took them on a tour of the vineyards, explaining the growing process, careful to point out that great winemaking begins with great farming.

  The harvest had begun earlier that week, and gigantic gondolas sat staggered along the rows for the pickers to dump their heavy boxes, before returning to the trellises to gather more of the sweet, ripe fruit.

  Ethan walked silently beside Georgie, his hands in his back pockets, his dark glasses shielding his gaze. She suspected he was still angry, and suspicious, but nobody would dare say anything, so he’d never discover her deception.

  Georgie asked questions as they strolled between the rows, taking copious notes on everything involved in viticulture, from training the vines along the wires, to how the grape varieties were planted in “blocks,” to what lees, soft tannins, and finings were.