Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Although I had a feeling he was the sort of man whose sexual appetite wasn’t limited to just one room.
I planned on satisfying all his cravings.
Anywhere he wanted.
DANTE
I carried my laptop down to the main floor, using the other, smaller office off the kitchen. I kept the doors open, and I enjoyed the show. My little bee was busy and had no idea I was watching her. She moved and danced around my kitchen like the sexual magnet she was. I needed to be in her orbit. She hummed and sang as she stirred and mixed. Little clouds of flour and sugar puffed from the mixer, and I imagined I would taste it all on her skin later. The stalker I had become, I snapped a couple of pictures of her, then settled back, enjoying her sweet soprano. Her voice relaxed me, easing the tension in my shoulders. Her joy of baking brought a smile to my lips and did something to my chest. What, I didn’t want to question, or perhaps I was too frightened to do so.
My phone rang with an incoming video, and I frowned at Paolo’s name. I shut the door to the office and accepted the call.
“Paolo. Good afternoon, brother.”
He didn’t bother with a greeting, leaning close to the camera. “Where is the girl?”
I crossed my legs, looking indifferent. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t play games, Dante. You asked me about the cake baker. Carolina said she tried to call her, and her number is disconnected. She asked me to check on her, and her boss informed me she quit. That some man called and did it on her behalf. You. Where is she?”
“With me,” I said simply, keeping my face neutral.
He slammed his hand on his desk. “What? Why? Are you out of your mind? She’s twelve years younger than you!”
“And Amanda is seven years your senior,” I snapped.
That startled him. “Dante, what is going on?”
I wasn’t prepared for this confrontation. I scrubbed my face and told him a half-truth. “She was in a desperate situation. I offered to help. She’s here with me.”
“As?”
I frowned. “A guest. An employee.”
“Which one?”
“None of your goddamn business which one,” I replied, my anger surfacing. “She is safe and happy, and that is all you need to know. None of this should concern you.”
“Is she? Safe and happy, I mean?”
I sent him a photo I had just taken. Brianna was concentrating, a smile on her face and some flour on her nose. She looked adorable and content.
“Yes,” I said tersely. “Satisfied now?”
“Why, Dante?” he asked again. “Why her?”
“I don’t know. There is something about her. We clicked.”
“So, she is okay?”
“She is fine. Do you want to talk to her?”
“No, but Carolina might.”
“Her phone was a piece of garbage. I got her a new one. I’ll send Carolina her number.”
“Is she baking in that picture?”
“Yes. She is making me a cake. One of many.”
As soon as I said that, I knew I’d fucked up.
“What?” he joked. “Did you kidnap her to make you cakes? Are you holding her for ransom, and she is paying it in baked goods?”
I took too long to answer, and his face went lax. “Dante, what have you done?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. We made a deal, and she came to visit.”
“You had better be telling me the truth.”
“You are the irresponsible, reckless one, remember?” I deflected. “I don’t pull crazy, half-assed stunts.”
Until now, I added silently.
“That was years ago.”
“She is fine. Everything is good,” I repeated.
“It had better be.”
“Are you threatening me?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“I’m warning you. She is a good friend of Carolina’s. She made her wedding cake as a favor. Not to fall prey to some whim of yours.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him she was not a whim. I had no idea what she was anymore, but I didn’t want to talk about it with him. And I didn’t want to say anything else that would make him suspicious.
The last thing I needed was for my brother to pay an impromptu visit and bring his wife. If they found out how I had acted, there would be hell to pay. I had never done anything so outrageous before. “Whatever,” I said dismissively. “Anything else?”
“Does she know what you do?”
“That I own some art galleries? Yes.”
“And?”
“And nothing. This is only temporary.”
“I see.”
“A couple months. Maybe less.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Something is going on.” He was too close to home with that statement. Something unexpected was going on, and I had no idea what it was or how to handle it.
“Nothing is going on except I have a houseguest and she is baking me a cake right now. You are reading something into all this that doesn’t exist. I’m done with this conversation. I’ll forward Carolina the number. Goodbye.”