Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Like?” I cry out. “Like doesn’t come close to how I feel. I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you?” he says with a teasing smile.
“Angelo Russo.” As always, when I look up at his face, he takes my breath away. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have some ideas, but not in front of Tess. We’ll have to wait until we get home.”
I swat his arm. “You’re impossible.”
He takes my elbow and helps me back into the car. “So you keep on telling me.”
“Thank you,” I say when he gets in beside me.
His eyes are warm and his smile soft. “You’re welcome, cara. I already set up meetings with the management team to talk about changes. You don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly until you’re ready to play a role or to take your place.”
“We could offer shark conservation fundraisers here,” I say, my excitement building as I think about the future possibilities. “We could run educational as well as exchange programs.”
He cups my knee. “I have no doubt you’ll make a success of whatever you set your mind to.”
We fall silent as I start making checklists in my head. I don’t want to walk in and change everything that’s already working well. That will create too much uncertainty and animosity. I’m young, and I lack professional experience. I’ll leave it to the team who’s already running the center. All I’d like to do is add value where possible.
I’ve been so caught up in my excitement that I haven’t noticed we crossed Bastia and are leaving the city behind.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Angelo smiles without taking his eyes off the road. “You’ll see.”
“I thought we were going for lunch.”
“We are, just a little later.”
I turn in my seat to check how Tess is doing. She’s fallen asleep in her car seat, her curls falling around her small face. I can’t get enough of staring at her. Often, I sit next to her crib at night and just drink in her features for hours. With her dark hair, black eyes, and proud little nose, she’s Angelo’s child through and through. The only thing she inherited from me is the shape of my lips. And the beauty spot in the corner. Sometimes, like now, she looks so perfect with her rosy cheeks and her rosebud mouth that it hurts to look at her.
Angelo glances at her in the rearview mirror. “How’s she doing?”
“Sleeping,” I say with a smile, facing forward again.
He turns into a road that runs up the hill and changes gears. I home in on his large hand that grips the gearstick, on the manly veins running underneath the tanned skin and the light dusting of dark hair that disappears under the sleeve of his shirt where a new tattoo is inked.
When Tess was born, he had her name tattooed on his forearm. Long before she was conceived in Great Brak River, he added my name to the ink on his chest, right between the wolves and the letters that spell resilience.
It’s too tempting not to touch him. My head still turns dizzy at the thought that I’m the only woman who has this access to him, who can place my hand on his leg or anywhere else on his body whenever I like. I close my finger around his thigh, feeling the steely hardness of the muscles as he steps on the clutch.
He cups my hand and shoots me a smile before focusing on the road again. On the top of the hill, he pulls over and parks at a viewpoint. Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses my knuckles before carefully putting my hand in my lap.
The wind ruffles his hair when he gets out of the car. I take in his strong body and attractive features as he comes around to get my door. He’s still dressed in a white fitted button-down shirt and the black pants that he wore to his meeting. Despite the winter temperature, he doesn’t wear a jacket. He hardly feels the cold. The shirt hints at the pecs and abs beneath. The top two buttons are open, showing the decorative border of the black ink. The tailored pants hug his narrow hips and his sculptured ass. At twenty-seven, he’s never looked more handsome or more dangerous.
He opens my door and helps me out, pulling me against him for a gentle hug and a deep kiss before putting space between us. His touch lingers on my hand, our gazes remaining connected as he finally lets me go to open the back door.
“Papa,” Tess says, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
We’re lucky that she’s such a good sleeper. She’s able to nap anywhere, and she never wakes up cranky.
“Come here, princess,” he says, unclipping her safety belt and lifting her into his arms. He plants a kiss on her cheek. “Did you have a good nap?”