From Barcelona, with Love by Elizabeth Adler Page B

her scent, her amber eyes, her golden skin made her the sexiest woman in the world.
    The kiss lasted a long time. It made Sunny’s knees tremble. In the back of her mind, though, she was wondering why Tesoro wasn’t snapping at Mac’s ankles, or any other part of him her jealous little dog could reach.
    She leaned back, happy again. Laughter lurked in her eyes. “Pour that wine, baby,” she murmured. “I vote we have it in bed.”
    For a regretful second Mac thought about the pepperoni pizza, still hot and spicy and perfect. Fortunately for him, he did not voice that thought and anyhow it only lasted a second. He had the Montrachet open in a flash and was pouring the wine into the glasses Sunny had taken from the cupboard when she remembered.
    â€œMac? Exactly what are we celebrating?”
    â€œThe show’s going on hiatus. I’ve gotten two weeks off.”
    Her eyes rounded with surprise. Then she smiled. She kissed him again. Lightly this time, but on the lips. She lifted her glass to him.
    â€œPerfect timing for our vacation,” she said, thrilled.
    And then the phone rang. Didn’t it always?

 
    Chapter 14
    Stuck with a wineglass in each hand, Mac hesitated at the bedroom door. His cell phone was in his shorts pocket. He gave Sunny a “should I answer it” kind of look. She looked stonily back at him.
    She did not offer to take the wineglasses so he could free his hand and answer. Instead, she walked past him into the bedroom, unbuttoning her white shirt as she went. She turned and gave him a look. He was still standing there. The phone was still ringing. He was still holding his very nice crystal glasses full of wine.
    Eyes linked with his, Sunny slid the shirt off her shoulders. She unhooked the floaty white skirt and let it slide onto the wood plank floor that sloped toward the window because it was warped by the damp sea air.
    The phone kept on ringing.
    â€œYou need voicemail,” she told him, naked but for her Hanky Panky turquoise lace boy-short underpants and the gold wedge heels.
    â€œNo contest,” Mac said, looking at her. For once, he ignored the ringing phone, and walked over and handed her a glass.
    â€œ This is our real celebration,” she murmured. The glasses tinkled pleasingly in a toast, which set Tesoro off barking. And for once Sunny scooped her up and dumped her in the hallway and shut the bedroom door.
    It would be just the two of them tonight.
    *   *   *
    â€œYou know what?” she said, a few hours later. “I have a great idea for your two-week hiatus.”
    Mac had his own idea for that hiatus. He lay back, watching lazily as she brushed her long dark hair, smoothing it with her hand after each stroke.
    â€œIt shines like a blackbird’s wing,” he said admiringly.
    â€œThat’s an improvement on a black Lab still wet from the ocean.”
    â€œI should write a song about it.” He sat up and took a sip of white wine. Even warm, it tasted good.
    â€œSomebody already did. Paul McCartney, I believe. Anyway he wrote something about a blackbird, maybe not its wings. But I’m getting away from the point.” She gave him that long slow under-the-lashes look that made Mac’s toes curl all over again.
    He reached out and pulled her to him. She fit so neatly into that space just beneath his shoulder, with her cheek pressed against his chest and her leg flung over him. He said, “Better tell me what’s on your mind, Sonora Sky Alvarez”—he called her by her real name—“and what else we’re celebrating tonight, besides my hiatus.”
    â€œThat’s just it. I don’t have a hiatus yet. I have to be in Napa this weekend for the wine festival. I’ve worked my butt off getting publicity for Ewan Mallow and Mallow wines, and this weekend will be the culmination. He’s getting an award, plus a great rating from Robert Parker for the