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)
He offered me a hollow smile. “Hello, Little Bee. How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
He poured me a coffee. “Good. Up for a little trip?”
“A trip?” I asked.
“Yes. It’s time to go home.”
I shut my eyes in relief. He was right. We needed to get back to the villa. We could get past this there.
“Yes. I want to go to the villa.”
Something passed over his face, but he only nodded. “We’ll leave after we have breakfast and you pack.”
“What about you?”
He flashed me another smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Already done.”
“Been up for a while, old man?” I asked, teasing.
He lifted an eyebrow, and I grinned, trying to get him to lighten up.
“I’ll let that pass.”
I was disappointed. I had rather hoped he’d at least threaten me a little. Maybe walk me slowly to the bedroom and have his way with me to disprove my words. Then I decided he probably was worried about the short car ride and my reaction to it. I’d show him tonight I was okay. I’d bake him some cupcakes, and he’d reward me. We’d get back on track. My bruises would heal and fade, and he’d get over his worry.
Maybe even address the fact that I’d told him I loved him.
I drank my latte and ate the croissant and fruit. In the bedroom, I packed the things I’d brought plus the new items we’d purchased, stuffing them into the bag. Dante came and picked it up.
“It’s a little fuller than when we got here.”
He touched my cheek. “Good.”
I wore a set of overalls and one of my new shirts. I slipped my feet into sneakers and left my hair down since that helped cover the bruising. I followed him to the car, and he tossed my case into the back.
I studied him, feeling tense. Something was off. He was acting oddly. He was stiff and removed. His touch had been distant. I noticed he didn’t hold my hand in the car. He always held my hand. We drove in silence, and I was confused. We seemed to be headed the wrong way. My confusion reached epic proportions when I spied the airport. He guided the car through some gates, and we pulled up to a private terminal.
“Dante, what’s going on?”
“I told you, a little trip.”
“I thought we were going home to the villa.”
He shook his head. “No.”
He climbed out and held out his hand. “We’re flying.”
I let him pull me from the car, and we headed to the plane. “What if I didn’t pack the right things?”
“You’re fine.”
He indicated I was to go up the steps. “You didn’t bring the bags.”
“They’ll get them.” I looked over my shoulder and saw a man pulling my bag from the car. He went around to the trunk, no doubt to get Dante’s bag, and I turned my head back. I still wasn’t used to being looked after that way.
Inside, I glanced around, noting the luxurious interior. It was cream and navy with deep carpets, wide leather seats, and tables. I peeked up at Dante. “Guess I didn’t notice this on the way here. I was a little out of it,” I said, hoping to make him smile.
He didn’t reply, and I was shocked at his expression. His face was stoic, blank. But his eyes were alight with a fire of agony. I felt my legs go weak, and I began to tremble. “Dante?”
He pressed me gently into a seat, buckling me in. I began to slap his hands, panic setting in. Something was terribly wrong. “Stop it. Dante, stop it. What is happening? Why aren’t we going home?”
He wrapped his hands around the armrests, leaning over me, caging me in. “You are,” he said, his voice hoarse.
He lifted his face and met my eyes. The pain was gone, and his were flat. Cold. Unfeeling.
Behind him, someone else appeared, and I gasped when I saw Richard and the cat kennel he was carrying. Roomba was inside, not looking happy.
Understanding dawned. He was sending me back to Canada. Without him.
I swung my gaze back to Dante. “What are you doing?”
“It’s over, Little Bee. Your time is done.”
“No,” I protested wildly. “I haven’t baked you all the cakes. I have to go with you. I’m fine.” I tried to push him away, grabbing at the seat belt. But he covered my hand, stopping me.
“You are done,” he said, his voice cool. “You’ve become a liability. A nuisance. We’re over. You’re going home. Richard will escort you.”
Liability. Nuisance.
His words hit me, and I stopped struggling.
“No,” I pleaded.
He cupped my face, then pressed his lips to my temple and rested his forehead against mine. He didn’t say anything. I gripped his wrists, my nails digging into his skin. “Don’t,” I choked, barely able to speak.
“Thank you for your time,” he said.
My time? He was thanking me for my time? Not my love? Not what we had been?