Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
The honesty in his voice was humbling. She didn’t know why she had doubted him. It hadn’t been him, more herself. Amaranthe knew it wouldn’t be necessary, but she nodded to let him know she would go to him if she felt slighted by anyone in his circle of acquaintances or nervous about their relationship again.
“Are you ready for this? They’ll be in a frenzy. We need to give them the photographs they want,” he cautioned.
“I’m ready.”
“Stay very close to me and always do exactly what Donte and Fiero tell you to do.”
Donte and Fiero Latini were Geno’s personal bodyguards and the head of his security. They had the responsibility of training the other bodyguards. They took their jobs very seriously, and the little she’d observed of them, she knew they were good at what they did.
“I will,” she assured, watching him text the head of his security that they were ready.
At once the car door was opened. In spite of everything, her heart began to accelerate. Geno slid from the car, his large body shielding hers as she exited. She smoothed the bright sparkly navy skirt so that it swished around her legs with each step she took onto the pavement. There seemed to be numerous cameras going off and people calling out to Geno. He wrapped his arm around her, sheltering her with his larger body, drawing her front tight against his side. He paused for a moment, turning to face toward the line of men and women shouting at them.
Smile for them, Amara. Look happy to be my fiancée.
I am happy. Deliberately, she tilted her head to look up at him, smiling adoringly at him because she was happy, and she did rather adore him, and she didn’t mind showing it to the world.
Most of the questions were directed at Geno, and he fielded them easily. It was evident he was used to dealing with the paparazzi. She noticed his expressionless mask didn’t change, but his protective demeanor was very much in evidence. She also could see he made the media somewhat uneasy. They made their demands, but if he didn’t like their questions, they didn’t repeat them. The demand to see the ring was one of the loudest.
Geno threaded his fingers through hers and held up their hands, the ring facing the cameras. As soon as the reporters got their shots, Fiero stepped close and indicated the restaurant. Geno immediately nodded and lifted a hand to the rows of men and women with cameras.
Keep your head down and stay in the middle between the bodyguards. I’ve got shooters on the roof, but I’m not taking chances with your life.
You make a much bigger target than I do.
Donte and Fiero swiftly moved them toward the restaurant, Fiero in front, Donte behind them. On either side of Geno and Amaranthe paced two other bodyguards, Leonardo and Bravo Ricci. All four bodyguards were very efficient in the way they carried out their jobs. Amaranthe could tell they had been at it for a long time and knew exactly what they were doing. They flowed together and were in step with Geno.
“There are two different restaurants inside. This entrance takes you to the family restaurant. We thought it was important parents could bring children with them after work, have a good meal at fair prices and relax,” Geno explained as a doorman opened and held the heavy oak door for them to pass through.
The architect had utilized the archways of the stone warehouse to help define the various spaces. The tables in the family restaurant were covered in simple red-and-white checked tablecloths. The chairs were comfortable-looking with high backs and sporting black legs. Around the long brick bar were high-backed stools with matching black legs. The bar held sparkling drinks for children to choose. Along one wall were small booths with red leather seating for two to four people. Overhead, strings of lights gave the impression of fireflies dancing across the high ceiling.
The bodyguards kept them walking straight through the family restaurant so Amaranthe didn’t have time to really look around the way she would have liked. She only noticed that the area was extremely spacious, smelled wonderful and seemed bright and cheerful. They went through another private door and down a hall and immediately entered the next restaurant, which she knew had earned a three-Michelin-star rating. The chef was that good.
The same stone floor was underfoot, but the entire look had been transformed and was breathtaking. The atmosphere was darker and much more romantic. Small, intimate round tables covered with white cloths accented by very plush black chairs were in arrangements of twos and fours set distances apart to provide plenty of privacy for each couple or party.
Overhead, a network of tree limbs that appeared to be very much alive dripped with purple and white flowers giving off a faint fragrance of honeysuckle. Throughout the tree branches, tiny lights lit up the darker room. Those lights and the two fireplaces at either end of the large room were the only source of light other than the candles on the tables.