‘What kind? Lemons are lemons, aren’t they?’

‘You instruct me. How foolish of me not to think of that.’

‘Now, look-’ she began hotly.

‘Lemons, as you so expertly say, are lemons. But are they Meyer lemons, Eureka lemons, Lisbon lemons?’

‘All right. I didn’t know there was more than one type,’ she said, facing him squarely.

‘No, and you don’t know which kind is the best for limoncello. In fact, you know nothing.’

‘Well, I’m not planning to tend them myself. I’ll employ someone who knows what to do. In fact, there must already be someone working here.’

His grin became a little wild.

‘You have nobody who can care for those lemons so that they’ll get the best price,’ he said flatly.

‘There are gardeners, aren’t there?’

‘There’s one. He’s a good workhorse, but he’s not an artist. You’ll have to explain everything to him.’

‘But surely there’s a head gardener, who doesn’t need to be have things explained?’

‘The only one who knows is me, and I’m out of here since you seized my home.’

‘You’re blaming me? You’ve got a nerve. Is it my fault you chose to sell?’

‘I did not-’ He stopped himself with a sharp breath. ‘Don’t trespass on that situation. You know nothing.’

‘Then don’t throw accusations at me. I didn’t seize your home-’

‘No, your husband did. But who ended up owning it?’

‘And that makes me a criminal, does it? I have no desire to “trespass on that situation” as you call it. I just want to take over my new home and settle in.’

He drew a sharp breath.

‘As you say,’ he said coldly. ‘Welcome to your home. I’ll inform your staff that you’re here.’

He walked out, followed by her glare. If there had been anything to throw, she would have thrown it.

She was furious with him for ruining the first special moments here. Everything had been peaceful and beautiful, until she’d walked in and found him waiting, almost as if trying to spring a trap for her.