Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I asked Bleu to take my place. He agreed. I made the introductions. Briefed him on all our projects. Announced my imminent retirement to the men who have served me these last ten years. I’m not going to lie and pretend this has been easy. I’m not going to lie and pretend I won’t miss it sometimes.”
“If this isn’t what you want—”
“It is. But it doesn’t make it easy. I’ve had nothing my whole life—except this. Without it…I’m nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
He rose from the couch then walked toward the fire so he could stare at it. “I’m no longer the man you fell for. I’m not dangerous. I’m not powerful. I’m not enigmatic. I’m just…me.”
I came up behind him, staring at his back. “That’s what I want, Bartholomew. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just you.”
He didn’t turn around.
“This baby will change my body. I’ll never be the same. But I know you’ll still love me.”
He turned his head first, and then the rest of his body followed.
My hands moved up his chest until I cupped his cheeks. “I’m so in love with you. Not your money. Not your power. But your heart. Your loyalty. Your eyes. You don’t need the Chasseurs… Not when you have me…us.”
His eyes were glued to my face. He didn’t draw breath. He didn’t blink. He stayed that way for a long time, his eyes locked on mine as he gauged my sincerity. Then his arms suddenly circled me, and he pulled me into his chest. His mouth didn’t crush against mine. Instead, he hugged me. Rested his chin on my head. And held me in front of the fire.
30
LAURA
I sat on the balcony in my bikini, letting the sun soak into my skin because it was a warm day despite the month. Now my stomach was so protruded, there was no doubt that I was pregnant.
I heard the door open and close from inside the room, so I knew Bartholomew was back.
He took the seat beside me and pulled out a Styrofoam container from a plastic bag. “Riso gelato.” He took off the lid and handed me a spoon.
“Thank you.” I grinned as I grabbed it from him and took my first bite. “Oh, I missed this. I used to eat this all the time as a kid.”
He sat back and watched me. “Then I suspect our kid will too.”
“You don’t want to try it?”
He shook his head. The man never ate sweets. Didn’t touch the basket of bread at dinner. Always had chicken with vegetables for dinner. Basically, he was the most boring man alive.
But he was super sexy, so it was fine.
“The real estate agent called,” he said. “There’s a new property outside the city.”
“Where?”
“Casole d’Elsa.”
“That’s a beautiful area. Just a bit of a drive from the city. What do you think about living that far away?”
He gave a shrug, sitting in his black jeans and t-shirt. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“That didn’t answer the question.”
He gave a slight smile. “You’re the one in charge as far as I’m concerned.”
“But you must have an opinion. I want to take your preferences into account.”
He looked out over the balcony, the Duomo in the distance. “I don’t know shit about kids, so I’ll have to defer to your expertise as to what’s best for our family. Living in Florence may be ideal when they’re older and can walk to school, but perhaps the countryside is best for when they’re infants. We can always change our minds later. I’m keeping this place, so it’ll always be here when we need it.”
I studied the side of his face as I replayed his words in my mind. “They?”
He turned to look at me. “I assumed you’d want more than one.”
It was a beautiful villa with olive trees planted around the property. Two stories and expansive, it was far too big for two people. It had a pool, a large lawn, a view of the valley to the west. A long winding path led to the top of the hill where the beautiful home sat, the pathways lined with stone, the walls a Tuscan beige.
It was beautiful.
With my hand on my bump, I walked through the chef’s kitchen, the large sitting room, the six bedrooms and eight baths, the outdoor terrace perfect for entertaining under the summer sky.
Bartholomew trailed behind, taking his own path through the home, examining the technical aspects of the house, like the water heater, the furnace, the fireplaces, all the boring stuff that men cared about.
“What do you think?” He joined me in the courtyard, finally wearing something other than black. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans, and the color brought out the richness in his eyes.
“Uh, it’s gorgeous. That’s what I think.”
“You want it, then?”
“I don’t know…”
“Your hesitation? It seems like everything is up-to-date. It’s turnkey.”