Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
"That's not right--I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of you--"
He cut her off with a rough laugh. "No, you won't be. Take my word on that. I want you--only you, not your money, not your maid service."
"If I make that promise, I don't mind continuing to keep up the penthouse. It's easy--not a problem--unless you'd rather I tried to find a job elsewhere?"
"No, don't find a job. I'd rather you be at the penthouse when I need you. If the housekeeping isn't too much for you, you can do it. I don't like strangers in my home anyway."
"All right. One more thing." She swallowed. She didn't know how to say this but it had to be part of the arrangement, so she was just going to spit it out. "The exclusivity bit you mentioned--it goes both ways? I can't do this if it doesn't."
"You're all I want."
She studied his hooded expression. "Is that an agreement? You'll be exclusive to me as well?"
"You're going to have to learn to trust me, Natalie." His face was carved from granite and his voice was flattened with disapproval.
Like you trust me? Trust me so much that you track my movements? "I hope I will trust you someday. For now--I'll take your word if you give it to me."
"You have it." He stared at her unflinchingly--as if he meant it.
The car was pulling into a circular driveway and Natalie wanted to put this behind them and move on from here. "Okay."
"Yes? You're okay with everything? We have a deal?" He demanded to know.
Natalie's head snapped back to him and studied the lean, closed-off features. A deal? He was calling the beginning of their relationship a deal? But then, he didn't see it as a relationship--it was an arrangement to him. She needed to remember that if she wanted to protect herself--protect her heart.
"We have a deal."
Chapter Seven
The venue where the charity event was being held was beautiful, and Natalie was pleased with her dress and overall appearance. She didn't feel as if she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Two hours later, dinner had been served and speeches had been made and she felt as if she was having an out of body experience. She'd sat beside Marco the entire time and was profoundly glad she was left-handed. He'd stroked her right hand through most of the meal, holding it and caressing it, letting it go only long enough to drop his hand down to her thigh where he stroked her leg, moving the material up and out of his way.
He'd introduced her to the other occupants of the table and then began conversing almost exclusively with the other men, business topics mostly, only about a third of which she understood. But she never felt as if he was ignoring her. The opposite, in fact. Even though he said few words to her, and looked at her even less, she felt flush with his attention.
His body radiated a subtle tension as he sat next to her, and she knew it had to do with the effect she had on him. Every time the conversation moved to a subject that was inconsequential and didn't take his whole concentration, his hand moved to her thigh where he clenched his fingers around her flesh, causing invisible tremors to pass down her spine.
As soon as the last speech was over and the band began to strike up, he turned to her, his dark eyes running over her and then searching her expression. "Do you want to stay and dance or can we get out of here?"
She swallowed hard and felt as if she were drowning under his spell. Oh, she wanted to go--the sooner the better. Her answer was cut off in her throat by an older couple, well into their seventies, as they walked to their table and turned Marco's attention from her. He stood, shook the man's hand, and kissed the papery cheek of the older woman with an actual smile on his face that radiated true warmth.
"Mona--George. Nice to see you. I'd like you to meet Natalie Lambert." He pulled Natalie from her seat by the hand until she stood next to him. "Natalie, this is George and Mona Lancaster, my favorite clients." He said this last bit with a smile and a shot of what to Natalie sounded like tenderness toward the older couple, and her insides melted a bit.
Mona Lancaster was smiling, a knowing, almost maternal smile as she held out her hand to Natalie. "Nice to meet you, dear."
"You, too," Natalie responded as she shook their hands.
"We've been doing business with Donati's since the early seventies--before you were even born. Isn't that right, Marco?"
"Yes, sir, it is--with my grandfather," Marco said to clarify the age and the depth of the relationship to Natalie. "How have you both been?"