Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 142938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
There was no mistaking Vittorio’s voice or his touch. His voice was like velvet, wiping away every bad memory. The sound filled those places inside her that were empty and frightened, a child cowering in her room, waiting for the demon to destroy her. It seemed as if Haydon had always been there, crouched like an evil entity, ready to rip her to pieces. Vittorio had found a way to push that relentless fear she’d been conditioned to feel into the background.
His hand moved lightly on her good shoulder, and at once she felt his calm spread through the panic gripping her. She fought the sensation of choking and struggled to take a breath, to allow his quiet composure to calm her. The pads of his fingers traced down her cheeks and then brushed at the tears there.
“He’s not here, Grace. I am. He can’t get to you.” He snapped on a low light, one that didn’t hurt her eyes, but allowed her to see around the room. “I want you to look at me, bella. Really see me. I don’t want you to have any illusions about who I am.”
Her gaze darted fearfully to every corner, then to the vents before coming to rest on Vittorio’s face. It was a strong face and it held masculine beauty, as if a sculptor had carved his finest work. She made herself really study his face, get past the beauty to see what was really Vittorio, the man. There was the stamp of ruthlessness. Danger. Power. He looked invincible. Implacable. So many things that could be negative. She could also see his protective streak. His caring. His sense of responsibility. Vittorio Ferraro was a man of mystery, but she was beginning to think of him as hers. She probably should have been afraid of him, but he brought her such a sense of well-being that fearing him was impossible.
“I’m going to get these sheets off of you and move you to the chair.”
He had a tone that indicated he was in complete charge and could be relied on to solve any problem. She knew, because in her business, that was the role she played—problem solver—and she was very good at it. She found it was especially tempting to be able to just not think, to let him do it for her. Her mind was in chaos and she just wanted to be wrapped up in his protection, just for a little while, until she gained her strength and will to fight back.
Vittorio pulled the sheets off her, unwinding them from her legs and stripping the top sheet from the bed. He slid her off the mattress, lifting her easily so that she was cradled against his chest.
“I need a shower.”
“You’re fine. We’ll take care of that tomorrow morning.”
“You’re not showering with me.” She was a little shocked at herself. The image of him naked in the shower with her was . . . intriguing.
His laughter was low and carried sensual undertones that seemed to slide under her skin to wreak havoc with her nerve endings.
“As much as the thought is tempting, I’ll wait until you’re fully healed.”
She should have laughed it off, but she found her gaze meeting his. “Are we going to shower together?”
“Yes, Grace. We will definitely be showering together.”
Her heart thudded. “We’re not really engaged, Vittorio.”
“Yes, we are really engaged, but we wouldn’t have to be to shower together, my little innocent. Since we are, you don’t have to look so shocked.”
“Why do you insist on saying we’re engaged?”
“Because I intend to marry you.”
“Why?”
He set her in a very comfortable chair that was right in front of the gas fireplace built into the wall. “Because the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I’d been searching for. I’ve been all over the world, met all kinds of women, and I know you’re right for me.”
She watched him strip the bed and remake it with clean sheets. He did it with sure hands, as if he’d been doing such a thing for years when she knew he had people who must have made his beds for him from the time he was born.
“I don’t know you.”
“You have great instincts, Grace. What do your instincts tell you?”
“That you’re very sexy and I’m very vulnerable right now.”
He glanced up from changing the pillowcases. “At least you think I’m sexy. That’s a start. Just give us a little time before you make up your mind.”
She remained silent, afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid to allow her brain to make any decisions, right or wrong, when she was doped up and in such a mess.
CHAPTER SIX
Come in, Vittorio,” Grace invited, swinging around to face the door at the knock. The window seat was tempting, but she refused to give in to the need to sit down. Her shoulder felt very heavy. After showering and struggling to get dressed, even with Emmanuelle’s help, she was already exhausted, but determined that Vittorio wouldn’t see that. Still, she was grateful for the cuff that held her wrist up to help immobilize her injured shoulder.