Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
His words both shocked and pleased her. She sensed he was telling her the truth. "Mine? You bought it for me? Really?"
"Yes."
"And can I actually drive it?"
"What the hell kind of question is that?" He all but roared the question.
"An honest one."
"Yes, you can drive it. But you have to promise me a couple of things first."
Her eyes left his and landed on the car again, suddenly itching to get inside and drive it. "What?"
"You'll always wear your seat-belt and drive within the speed limit."
"Yes, of course," she agreed simply.
"You won't text and drive. Or drink and drive."
She turned back around to face him with a scorching look on her face. "I'm not an idiot."
He ignored that. "You'll come home every night."
Natalie heard the slight trace of vulnerability behind the hissing menace of his voice that he couldn't quite disguise. She didn't acknowledge the subtle threat in his tone, the rigid demand or the hint of anger this situation was causing him. All she focused on was the vulnerability as it slid through her and landed with an irresistible need to touch him and reassure him. She lifted her hand to the five o'clock shadow that graced his face every evening when he came home. "I'll be safe--"
He cut her off and grabbed her to him and slammed her torso against his. "You better be fucking safe. Don't for an instant think I've forgotten how we met. I'm not calling you stupid, but you're not used to driving in the city. This is damn hard for me, Natalie. It's killing me."
She caressed his cheek as she acknowledged to herself what he was feeling and what a huge step this was in his bid to trust her. "I know. It's okay. I'll be safe. I won't go far."
She felt some of the tension leave his body and he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek, and whispered in his ear, "I'll be safe. I'll take care of your car."
His fingers gripped her chin and forced her eyes to his. Intense, sexual heat smoldered from them as he rasped back, "I don't give a fuck about the car. Take care of you."
****
A month slid by in a rush. Natalie was more than content. She'd started out slowly with the car, only driving to the grocery store as she took over the chore that she didn't see as a chore at all. She was beginning to love to cook, and wanted to browse the shelves slowly to get new ideas and to see what was available.
She drove to the library and checked out books, even though he had equipped her with a credit card of her own, a credit card with no limit, she didn't want to spend more money than she had to. And library books were free.
She only shopped for clothes when he requested she wear something special, which so far, hadn't been often.
She was content. She refused to think of herself as his mistress. She was his girlfriend. They lived together. That was all. That's the way it was.
Her cousin was back in town and she'd touched base with him. She missed her mother, but spoke to her often. Natalie believed her mom was finally coming to her senses, slowly but surely. She could hear the disillusion in her voice. It was painful for Natalie to hear, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She and her mom wanted to get together. Natalie needed to feel her mom's embrace and she knew her mother needed that worse than she did. But her mother worked full-time, and they were having trouble finding a weekend free that suited them both. But it had to happen soon; they missed each other too much to go much longer without seeing one another.
Natalie loved the new decor of the penthouse and began to put her own touch on it. She bought a few things here and there, moved a few things around, and generally just slowly began to make it feel as if it were her own. It helped, but not entirely.
What did help was seeing Marco's reaction to the small changes that she made. He'd look around and notice something. He never said anything, but a look would pass over his features. A look of satisfaction.
He wanted her there. She knew it. Pleasure would course through her every time she saw that look. So much so that she'd find herself going shopping just to see that expression on his face again. It soothed her and gave her comfort that his feelings for her ran deep.
There was no doubt that she was in love with him. Every day, she would learn a different nuance of his personality. She learned how to interpret his expressions and how to read his body language and mannerisms. She began to know how he would react, and what he was thinking before he reacted.