Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Neither of us moved. Our gazes were locked, mine intense and hungry, hers wide with shock and uncertainty. My heartbeat picked up, my body tightening. Her chest heaved, her breath escaping in short, sharp rasps. Injured or not, I wanted her. Reluctant or not, I wanted her. I stepped closer, grabbing the towel off the vanity and pausing.
I looked one more time at her sensual beauty. The beauty she kept hidden under loose clothing. I wanted to take a picture of her, yet the thought of anyone seeing her this way, anyone but me, was abhorrent. I burned her image into my mind. It was one I knew I would revisit often.
I handed her the towel, then I turned and walked out before I gave in to my desires.
A long time later, Effie walked into my office, looking decidedly nervous. I was working on a stack of paperwork, trying to find a solution to an ongoing problem. I needed to occupy my mind and hands and stop myself from returning to Effie and throwing her on the bed and tasting her pretty pink skin—everywhere.
I glanced up, trying not to laugh. The shirt she wore was old and shapeless. The leggings covered her right down to her feet, and she wore socks. The shirt was buttoned up to her neck. As if by covering herself it would erase the memory of my eyes on her. Her gaze drifted to the table, and I smirked. She was braving the lion in his den because she smelled the pasta. The aroma of garlic and basil had been tickling my nose since it arrived a short while ago, and I had wondered if she would join me or hide all night.
“Hungry, Little Tiger?”
She nodded and I stood. She scurried to the table, sitting down so quickly she almost missed the chair. She grimaced, and I shook my head, sitting across from her.
“Don’t hurt yourself. I won’t touch you.”
My nonna had drummed it into our heads from young boys that women were to be respected. Admired. Treated with the utmost care. My father’s teachings had been drastically different, but even he held to the one simple truth. No means no. I never had, nor would I ever, force a woman.
Especially the tiny one sitting across from me.
I poured some wine and lifted the lids. “I thought pasta would suit,” I explained. “Soft on your throat but filling.”
She looked at her plate, a delicate alfredo on one side, a Bolognese on the other, both with fresh pasta.
She glanced up. “They are my favorite.”
“Then eat. You need the strength.” I winked at her. “And my chef is directly from Italy. It is amazing.”
She chewed and swallowed, tasting each one. I liked watching her eat. She enjoyed her food, and I was pleased to see that. Eating was one of the joys in life.
“So delicious,” she murmured. “Perfect sauce and pasta.”
“I want that plate clean.”
She ate slowly, savoring the meal. She sipped a little wine but drank more water than the red liquid.
“You don’t like wine?”
“I rarely drink.”
“I can order you something else.”
“No, thank you.” Then she laid down her utensils. “And thank you for my clothes. And the picture. That was very thoughtful of you. Or should I thank Vi?”
“No, I didn’t ask Vi. I went to check on your diner and thought some of your own clothes would be more comfortable for you than the ones I sent upstairs.”
“I saw the garment bags. You can send them back.”
“No.” I drew in a deep breath, wondering when I had become nervous about telling someone, especially a diminutive woman, what I expected them to do. “You will need them.”
“For?”
“You will be coming to my nonna’s for lunch on Sunday. Well, my place, but Nonna lives there and basically runs it.” I paused. “She wants to meet you.”
“Why?”
I took a sip of wine, bracing myself. “Nonna has been worried about me. She thinks I need to settle down. Aldo got smart this afternoon and told her I was seeing someone.”
“Who?”
“You.”
She blinked. “Was he drunk?”
I threw back my head in laughter. “No, Little Tiger. I can’t explain his reasoning, but she now thinks we are dating. And since I know she will like you and you are here, you are now going to come to lunch and let her think we are, in fact, together.”
“And how exactly will that work?”
I shrugged. “We will hold hands, smile at each other, throw out a few stories about our relationship, and make her happy.”
Effie stared at me. “She’ll never believe that.”
“She will if we play our parts.”
“And if I say no?”
I didn’t want to force her. I didn’t want to use her misguided gratitude, but I did.
“You owe me, Little Tiger. I’m collecting. Your life and freedom for a few hours spent with an old lady who wants me to be happy. It will only be on a couple of occasions. Not much to ask, really.”