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)
“Nevertheless, Grace, it’s the truth.”
She nodded her head and then gave him a sudden little frown. “I thought you said you can’t cook. This is delicious.”
She was changing the subject in order to give herself time to think. He didn’t want that, but she needed to feel comfortable and he wasn’t about to push her any more than he already had. He was grateful for her response and the fact that she was thoughtful instead of snapping out answers when she hadn’t had the time to consider all the things he’d laid out for her.
“You barely ate.”
“I ate. Who did the cooking?”
He smiled at her. “Merry Dubois. She’s a cousin as well. She married a man by the name of Marcellus Dubois while she was in culinary school. He was working on the building the classes were held in. Marcellus is the caretaker for the property, which is an enormous job. They live next door, our nearest neighbor.”
He liked the couple. They were quiet and respected his needs to keep his home a sanctuary. If repairs had to be made, Marcellus always scheduled them to be made when Vittorio wasn’t home. Merry not only did the cooking but supervised the cleaning staff as well. She also scheduled them when Vittorio wasn’t home. The couple really looked after him as well as his home, and he appreciated them more than he could ever express to them.
“I do have a cleaning crew who come in and take care of the house, but Merry oversees them.” He flashed her another smile, knowing she was attracted to him. Knowing he was unashamedly offering her his home, his lifestyle, in an effort to entice her to stay.
“Other than the fact that I can’t use my arm at all, this feels like a fairy tale.”
“Life with me isn’t always going to be a fairy tale, but I can promise you I will always do my best to make you happy. That’s important to me, Grace, making you happy.”
“Just so long as it’s okay that I make it a priority to make you happy.”
His heart jumped, but he refused to let himself believe she was going to give herself to him. He was asking for things she didn’t yet understand, and he refused to let her walk blind into a binding relationship until she knew exactly what she was getting into and was prepared to be fully committed. She had to want the same relationship, or he wasn’t right for her. Already he knew she was the one he wanted, and it had nothing to do with their shadows coming together.
He liked her. He liked the fact that she was so courageous. He admired her. She had lived in terror and under the threat of unspeakable violence for years, and yet every single day, she had functioned, worked, kept her integrity while trying to protect those around her.
“It would be nice if you did.”
Her eyes darkened in concern. “Vittorio, aren’t you happy?” Her gaze swung around the room, taking in the high ceilings and the incredible view of the lake and then came back to rest on his face.
He wasn’t going to give her less than the truth, not when he was asking so much of her. “Having money doesn’t make anyone happy, bella. That’s a myth. I present one face to the world and then come back to an empty house. It’s beautiful and peaceful here, but it is still very much empty. These last three weeks, you’ve made my life feel full and rich and given me a reason to get up every morning.”
Grace tried to process everything Vittorio had told her, everything he was offering. The only time she ever had been happy was at work, pouring herself into KB Events, seeing to every detail, like a general orchestrating a perfect battle. She had no friends, she didn’t dare. She didn’t go out, because . . . she didn’t dare. The only place she felt relatively safe was when she worked, and she often worked from home, making deals over the phone. Haydon wanted money, so he usually didn’t interfere. Occasionally he would come to one of the events just to scare her into compliance—and it usually worked.
When Vittorio told her he wanted complete control in the bedroom, she honestly didn’t think it would bother her. In fact, when he said it, her body had gone into meltdown. Still, she liked the idea that he would take his time to get her there. She was willing to spend the time it would take to see if they were compatible. He was worth it.
She was happy with Vittorio and felt safe most of the time. He gave that illusion, as if he was invincible and no one could best him. “You make me feel safe,” she conceded. “And happy. I don’t think I really knew what that was until just now. Realizing that just talking to you makes me happy. I even got a full night’s sleep, although I feel bad that you’re not sleeping in a bed.”