Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I hung up, seething.
I hadn’t counted on my younger brother finding out she was here. At least, not this way. I had no doubt Carolina would call Brianna and ask what was going on. If Paolo discovered I had called Carolina on her honeymoon to pump her for information, he was going to have a fit. If Brianna couldn’t convince Carolina all of this was consensual, Paolo would show up here, and things would get messy.
I buried my head in my hands and cursed.
I would have to do some damage control.
Fast.
I headed for the kitchen, my anger still bright. I had texted Carolina the number and received an immediate reply.
Carolina
What is going on? Why is Bri with you in Italy?
My reply had been short.
Me
Ask her yourself. But give her a while. She is busy.
Carolina
Doing what?
Me
Baking me a goddamn cake. Later, or I will cancel her phone. I have been waiting all day.
Carolina
Touchy.
I ignored her and went to see Brianna.
In the kitchen, I leaned on the doorframe, simply watching her. She was in her element, ingredients around her, the scent of baked goods heavy in the air. She was tapping her bare toes to the beat of the music, humming along, occasionally singing the words in her pretty voice. I stared at her bare feet, remembering what I had said to her earlier. She was strong and fierce. And that would become more prominent as she grew older. I wondered what a force she would be in a few years. She was already incredible.
I inhaled, the sounds of her voice and the fragrance of sweet vanilla smoothing the rough edges, my anger fading somewhat. She looked up and saw me. Her smile was so bright, it made me catch my breath.
“Oh, hi!”
I chuckled. “How is my industrious little bee faring?”
“Good.” She rubbed her cheek absently, leaving a trail of icing on it. “Cakes are in the oven, I have cookies started, and I’m planning tomorrow already.”
I went closer, cradling her chin in my hand and bending low, licking the icing from her skin. “Mmm, buttercream. Why is yours so delicious?”
“I add cream cheese to most of my frostings,” she replied, her voice breathless. “It makes them smoother, richer, and less sweet. And real vanilla.” She dragged a finger through the bowl in front of her and offered it up. “See?”
I held her hand, sliding her finger into my mouth and sucking off the icing. I swirled my tongue around the digit, then kissed the tip as I let it go. She stared at her finger, then me, her dark eyes lit with a different fire than usual.
“That was the second-best thing I tasted today.”
“What was the first?”
I leaned closer, our lips barely touching. “Your mouth.”
She swallowed, then did something I didn’t expect. She dipped her finger into the icing and smeared it on her tongue. She licked her lips, leaving a trail of frosting behind.
“Come and get it, old man.”
I grabbed her overall straps and dragged her to me, kissing her until she was breathless. Until my own head was spinning. It was only the timer going off that broke us apart. I stepped back, meeting her gaze. She looked dazed, flushed, and inviting. But she shook her head.
“The cakes,” she murmured, brushing past me.
If it had been anything else but cake, I would have told her to leave it. But she had worked hard, and I wanted the damn cake. I had been patient long enough.
She took the pans from the oven and set them on racks to cool. They were golden and smelled incredible. She adjusted the temperature and put two sheets of cookies on the counter, ready to go in.
She tilted her head, studying me. “What’s wrong?”
“What makes you think something is wrong?”
She came close and rubbed my forehead. “When you’re upset, you get a line between your eyes. It was gone earlier. It’s been gone a lot the last few days. But it came back after you saw Winters, and it’s back now. What happened? Is he causing you trouble?”
I was surprised at her observation. Most people wouldn’t notice something like that. But she had. And she was worried about me. I liked that.
“No.” I told her about my brother and his call. Carolina’s text.
She listened and slid the cookies into the oven, setting the timer. She turned and leaned on the counter, crossing her arms.
“And you want to make sure I tell her the same version of the story. Not mention the drugging and kidnapping part?”
“Yes. I think we’re past that now.”
She nodded, then again surprised me. “I have one condition.”
I mimicked her stance. “I see. You want another negotiation. Let me hear it.”
“I’ll tell Carolina the PG version. I don’t want her or her father here either.”
“Good.”
“As long as you tell me why Winters thinks you stole something from him.”