He propped himself up on the bed next to her. “Why, my darling?”
She traced his jawline and cheek as she sucked in her lip before she finally said, “I promised Clara I’d ensure she had a wonderful vacation and honestly she hasn’t had much money lately. I’d like to keep my promise.”
Promises were important. He sat straighter as he realized the importance in that they both valued their word. Excellent. He stood and walked to his bureau for a tie. “Of course, though I’ll have my friends move her to a different hotel.”
She pushed the covers off her as she asked, “Why?”
He didn’t want to offend her, so he slung an arm around her bare shoulder. “You chose a cute hotel but if we’re returning to Paris, I tend to stay at the Grand Hôtel du Palais Royal.” He made no apology for his high standards.
Her eyes widened though he assumed she had no idea the names of any hotels. It was in her blank face. “And we’ll foot the bill? Clara was staying in the hotel I’d already paid for and I don’t want to saddle her.”
Friends were a good thing and in time Rosalind wouldn’t ask questions like that as they’d be on the same page. He ran his fingers through her hair to get it off her face. “Of course. She won’t have to worry about a thing. Are you giving her your business?”
She hugged her waist as she stepped back. “That’s another thing I want to talk to her about.”
“Fair enough.” And how she disposed of her business was her choice, though she needed to focus on learning how to run his estate with him. Being a lady, at least his, was a full-time job. He fixed his blue tie as he nodded, “I’ll get the jet fueled and ready.”
He strode toward the door. “Thank you, Stephano. I’m happy I married you.”
As he turned around, he saw her slightly-puffy (from his kiss) lips that beckoned him to kiss her again. He took a breath and placed his hand on his heart to emphasize his words. “Keep looking at me like that and we’ll be a few hours later.”
She sashayed toward him and batted her eyes as she ran her hands on his side and backside. “Like what? Like this?”
“Teasing isn’t nice.” He quickly followed through, leaning forward and claiming a quick kiss.
Her kiss made him forget everything. He took a few steps back into the room and the wrinkled sheets from last night.
One more time with her would never be enough.
His body demanded more. However she pressed her palm to his shoulder and gently pushed him back as she said, “Make the call. And I’m hungry. Then we’ll see.”
We’ll see usually meant no. At least when his mother had said that. He stepped back and adjusted his tie again. “My love is hungry. I’ll handle both. Shower and meet me on the veranda.”
He ignored how his body demanded physical time with Rosalind again as he strode toward the door.
But like a siren, Rosalind’s voice called toward him as she said, “Stephano?”
“Yes?” He turned around, knowing he had no choice. If she signaled for him to return, he’d be her slave.
She inched closer and opened her arms. “Kiss me before you go.”
In this, she had total control. He tugged her into his hard body, slightly rougher than he intended and kissed her passionately.
She sighed and held him close. Part of him wanted to throw her on the bed, but he remembered she was hungry. He forced himself to let go as he said, “You’re perfect.”
She shook her head and held the door as she said, “No, that I’m not. See you in a few minutes.”
Shyness was cute. And his wife was perfect.
For years he’d mocked Chelsea’s sister and her computer program, but she must have truly studied psychology and possibly chemistry.
Her computer program had found him the perfect wife and he hadn’t ever assumed that possible.
He made his way downstairs and ordered breakfast foods with lunch. His staff understood Rosalind was American and didn’t blink. He then called his friends to arrange the hotel switch, and within moments, his secretary texted that all the reservations were done.
Content, he eyed his white veranda, the oval table set with a black lace tablecloth. He breathed deeply of the clean air that had a scent of the olive trees.
Avce was more like home than anywhere he’d ever lived.
The day he’d moved here with his parents replayed in his mind. His mother had been so happy she’d practically danced in the halls. His days of calling hotels "home" were over and he was ready to settle into his estate.
The staff set the table and he poured himself a cup of coffee.
At least he could have this before diving into the heavier options for lunch, if Rosalind chose to eat more lunch foods.
He’d indulge in whatever meal she wanted today.
For once the lightness in his heart might mean he was happy.
He wasn’t sure as this feeling was new.
Rosalind walked outside in her knee-length emerald green dress, and for a second, he couldn’t breathe. He gulped his coffee and stood, pretending she didn’t affect him this way, but he held her chair for her. As she sat beside him, he pushed her in. “The plane is ready when we are.”
“In a few hours?” She lowered her napkin on her lap.
He signaled for the first course to be served. “Yes, whenever. And the hotel rooms are booked. Astorre is helping your friend switch hotels. He was quite happy to move her.”
She chose croissants so he picked the same and then poured them both coffee from the small pot he’d kept.
As he drank, he felt the caffeine kick in and his brain started working.
Rosalind sipped her cup of coffee and finished quickly, but as she poured herself a second cup, she asked, “Could Astorre and Clara…”
Marry? Date? Either way, he firmed his lips. Rosalind and he shouldn’t play matchmaker for their friends. He stared down at her wide open expression and then said, “I don’t know. Astorre wants to let his inheritance go.”
She sipped her coffee in a pensive manner. “Does being a duke cost more than a arquis?”
“His estate is profitable and he manages well,” Stephano said. He’d asked in the past why Astorre was so adamant about letting it all vanish, but Astorre hadn’t answered. Stephano had the sense that something bad had happened to him or his parents.
Rosalind put her cup down and tilted her head as she asked, “Then why?”
He shrugged and signaled for the next course. His staff presented fruits for their untouched croissant and then a lemon butter fettuccine. Rosalind pointed toward the lunch option and he motioned for the same. Once the staff left, he answered, “Personal demons of his that have nothing to do with us.”
She picked up her fork as she stared at her bowl of pasta and said, “True. This food looks delicious.”
He used his fork to twine pasta against a large spoon. “It’s a cream-base, as you intended to enjoy French cuisine, though in Avce we typically eat more tomato-based pasta.”
She smiled at him without touching her food and the light in her eyes was so expressive as she said, “Next time please ask the chef for a local dish. I want to get to know my new home.”
“Done. But for now, enjoy.”
As he swirled pasta, he recalled Rosalind’s soft cries of pleasure and knew each of them had expended a lot of energy—all he wanted was Rosalind back in bed, naked and waiting for him.
The thought made him hard even as the food processed in his stomach.
He finished but then watched her.
A few minutes later, she put her fork down and leaned closer, brushing against his leg. “This was delicious.”
Until Rosalind, he’d never thought he’d be happy with one woman. He nodded and put his napkin down. The staff understood he was done so they’d not offer any dessert.
She stood and he motioned toward the house again. She had a bounce to her step as they walked inside. “Now that we’ve eaten and our bags are packed, should we drive to the ai
rport, or can we go upstairs like we said?”
His skin buzzed as he more tightly held her hand. “I want to enjoy my wife.”
She tugged his arm toward the stairs. “Good. Let’s go.”
A laugh escaped his throat. He’d expected to seduce her, but as she directed them toward the second floor and the bedroom, he asked, “Rosalind. So this wasn’t something we’ll see about.”
She blinked and stared at him blankly. “What?”
He pulled her to continue forward. “Earlier you said we’ll see. You made me wonder what you wanted and what I’d need to do to convince you.”
She stopped him on the stairs with her hand on his chest and looked up at him. “I want you.”
Her lips were heaven itself. He took one more sip and understood what the nectar of ancient gods must taste like.
As the kiss ended, she hugged his waist and signaled for them to continue.
He kept his hand on her lower back. On the top level, he paused and took a breath. Something in his head buzzed that soon they’d see the world again. He pressed his lips together as he thought about his own past. “Don’t be jealous when you meet Chelsea. She was only a friend and you’re now my wife. I’m happy with how everything worked out.”
She chewed on her lips as if in thought but then she said, “I’ll try. One question though. Is she happy with her new husband?”
The rest of the world didn’t matter to him. However, his title meant he’d see half the people he knew over and over again and Rosalind would soon be in their orbit. Everything needed to go well. He opened the bedroom door. “Insanely so from what I understand, though I do think we should send a thank you gift to her sister.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed.
He held her waist tight and pulled her toward him. “For sending me your name.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, but then she opened them instead of kissing him and asked, “Oh! Isn’t she also rich?”
Now his lips tingled that he wanted more. He swallowed as he answered her questions. “She has charities she runs. At Matteo’s wedding, let’s find out her charity of choice and make a donation in her name.”
She looped her arms around his neck. “So there isn’t anything you’d change about us?”
To him, everything was amazing. He’d finally found the one person he needed and life seemed great. But he didn’t move as he glanced own at her and said, “Nothing. Do you have regrets?”
She laughed and went higher on her tiptoes. “I wish I’d come to Avce on my own instead of almost marrying Alberto. But I’m happy with you.”
His body hardened when he claimed her kiss.
Her lips made him forget the world. He pulled her into the bedroom and closed the door without ending the moment. The door slammed. “Good. Now let’s get these clothes off.”
Her finger pressed against her smile as she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed.
Perfect. He’d spend the afternoon peeling her clothes off and enjoying her. Maybe computers could find true love. Anything seemed possible now.
Rossie wore the rose-shaped gold pendant that her grandmother had given her at her first communion, which she considered lucky, and stepped out of the limo. In Paris, she glanced toward the sky and the top of the historical mansion and held her breath. The white stone walls had a soft light that shone on them and a balcony overlooked the street.
Stephano placed his hand on her lower back and led her inside through an elegant black door with glass panes. White marble flooring with black trim and cream walls all seemed magical. She stayed beside him, though gently patted his stomach as she said, “Stephano, this hotel is beautiful.”
Without looking around, he shrugged and directed them farther into the lobby, past a white marble statue and toward the dark wood table clearly made for royalty. “It was one of the former royal palaces.”
“I can understand that.” She held her thought that she’d already figured out who lived here.
As they made their way toward the dark wood and the check-in desks, a cold tingle raced across her skin. A second later, she heard Alberto. “Rossie. There you are.”
She craned her neck and saw Alberto get out of a medieval-style wooden chair that hid his entire presence and she instinctively clutched Stephano tighter as her husband asked, “Who’s this?”
Part of her wanted to dissipate into a pool of water like the wicked witch in that old movie she’d seen as a child. Her skin heated. She hadn’t ever wanted Stephano to meet this part of her past. But she swallowed the bitter air and held her head high as she waved with her free hand, “Stephano, this is Alberto Navarro. Alberto this is my husband, Stephano Durnovo, the Marchese of Normanni.”
Alberto offered his hand to shake.
She closed her eyes and wished she was anywhere but here until Stephano glanced at Alberto’s hand and didn’t accept the gesture. Alberto withdrew his offer.
Alberto then turned toward her like he needed her help as he said, “What Clara said was true.”
Oh goodness. A week ago, she’d have tried to help Alberto in this social circumstance. She’d often guided him in public now that she remembered, but she shook off the memory and let go of Stephano. “I’d imagine yes. She was there.” Adrenaline rushed in her veins as she looked around for her best friend. “Where is she?”
Alberto put his hands in his pockets as he said, “Some duke guy came and took her to lunch.”
Stephano put his hand on her lower back to lead her as he said, “Rosalind, we’re checking in now.”
Alberto’s eyes seemed alert as she didn’t move and he said, “Rosalind? You hate your name.”
Right. She needed to end this entire scene and get away from Alberto. Fast. He'd convinced her that her name was awful when they were six years old. She ignored the buzz in her veins as she traced Stephano’s side and said, “Stephano, can I talk to Alberto alone for a few minutes?”
Stephano’s brown eyes had a gleam that slightly dimmed, but he nodded and kissed her cheek. “I’ll check us in and be right over there.”
“Thank you.” She lingered, wishing his arms were still around her.
He walked through the lobby to the desk. She pulled her gaze from his backside, then crossed her arms and faced her ex. “Alberto, why are you here?”
He swallowed like he was actually scared and his lean body shook like a twig as he looked at her husband and then back at her. His upper lip curled. “I wanted to win you back and showed up at the hotel we'd booked together.”
She’d been a complete fool. His affair with Abigail had saved her. Alberto had many friends and was always the charmer. Being more reticent, he’d made her life easier when they’d dated. She lowered her head, hoping the heat in her cheeks dissipated as she asked, “Why would you think that was okay?”
Alberto pressed his hand on her arm and the chill of goosebumps grew everywhere on her body as he said, “I needed to apologize and I hoped you’d be forgiving.”
This couldn't be right. She took her arm out of his grasp and shook her head. “Where is your cousin? Did you bring her here too?”
“Abigail and I are over,” he said. “I screwed up the best thing I had in my life.”
Best thing? Her heart constricted. She’d wanted to be respected, by him, by his friends, by everyone she knew. She held her head high. “But you two were so perfect together.”
“You and I were better.” He lowered his eyes.
This needed to end. Adrenaline shot through her. She pointed to Stephano at the counter and said, “Look over there. Look at Stephano. He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met.”
Alberto’s lips thinned. “You mean he’s richer than me.”
No. Her breath caught in her throat. What had he meant by that? She worked too hard to ever be about the money. She folded her hands together and said, “Only in your world do you judge men based on yacht size, which, by the way, you don’t have.”
Alberto stepped back but his ha
nds flew out of his pockets as he shook his head. “I don’t understand you. I thought you valued hard work and weren’t just a gold digger.”
No. No. No. She wasn’t that. Her entire body wanted to shrink and disappear as a cold spine-chilling tingle raced down her back. Her eyes widened and she asked, “Excuse me?”
Alberto still shook his head like a disapproving father as he said, “The difference between you and Abigail was that you could and wanted to take care of yourself. Abigail expected me to do everything for her. You were your own champion, but now I see that was just another lie.”
“You don’t get to judge me.” She stepped toward Stephano. She knew she wasn’t supposed to care what Alberto said, but that didn’t stop the cold from making her shoulders slump.
He widened his stance. “I’m not judging. I’m disappointed.”
“Goodbye, Alberto. Please go home now.” She scrambled to follow Stephano’s footsteps.
The hotel clerk was handing him two plastic cards and Stephano slipped one into her hand. The clerk then gave him his credit card and Stephano wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “How was your little reunion?”
What could she say? That Alberto made her stomach go into knots? That I'm still the ugly one no one will ever want? She tried to ignore that voice that echoed in her mind as she said, “He apologized. I listened and now I’m done.”
Stephano walked beside her toward the elevators and grand staircase made of white marble with red carpet laid over the sparkling stone. As he pressed the button for the elevator, he massaged her neck. “So why do you seem pensive?”
Fair. Stephano was sexy, handsome and basically the man of her dreams. Her shoulders lifted a little from his attention and a small smile grew on her face as she asked, “Pensive?”
"Worried." They stepped inside the elevator and the doors began to close as he traced her back, sending warmth through her. “Your shoulders were slumped. Your face was crestfallen. And your glow dimmed. I wondered if I’d have to confront him.”
“He left when I told him to.” Her heart began a different patter as she wrapped her arms around his waist and asked, “You noticed my glow?”
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