Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Money is no object.
Everything is over the top luxury. Everything is perfect.
Like him.
Enrico Ferrara, you are one major mindfuck.
Yesterday, I was heartbroken over you. Today, I’ve moved in.
What the hell?
Natalie is going to lose her shit at me.
I make my way into the kitchen, turn the light on, and stand for a moment as I take it all in. It’s an all-white state of the art kitchen with beautiful coffee-colored marble floors. The best appliances money can buy sit on every surface, and there’s a huge copper range hood that hangs over the triple oven and hotplates.
Wow, what the hell could you cook in this kitchen? Hopefully good food.
I smirk at the thought of serving up something crappy. I wonder where I could buy packet pasta.
I peer into the fridge, only to be pleasantly surprised to find that it’s fully stocked. There’s lots of fresh fruit, vegetables, and meat. I open the pantry and find a selection of breads and oils. Antonia must have bought all this stuff for us coming here. Or maybe it’s just constantly stocked, and the food goes to waste half the time. I search through the cupboards to find the pots and pans, and then I get to work.
Rici likes fruit for breakfast, but when he’s with me he’s been having eggs and bacon. All those ingredients are here. I’ll make him a smorgasbord—try and impress him with my culinary skills.
Half an hour later, I have a plate of freshly cut up fruit, poached eggs on sourdough with a side of bacon and avocado. There’s also a cup of the strongest coffee known to man. I don’t know how to work that fucking coffee machine. This is the fourth cup I’ve made, and they all taste like shit, but it’s the thought that counts right?
I load it all onto a tray and make my way upstairs.
I carefully place it down on the table in his room and, feeling proud of myself, I lay myself down beside him.
He inhales sharply as he wakes. “Hmm, bella,” he sighs sleepily.
I swear, Rici Ferrara’s bedroom voice should be used for all voiceovers. That deep, raspy tone sends shivers down my spine.
He kisses my forehead and holds me close as he begins to doze back off.
“I made you breakfast.” I smile against his chest.
“Hmm.” He frowns. “What?” He peels his eyes open.
“I made you breakfast.” I stand and go to get the tray. I put it down on his bedside table.
He leans up on his elbows and smiles sleepily. “You spoil me.”
“Baby, you have no idea how spoilt you are going to be.” I lean in to kiss him softly and he wraps his arms around me and pulls me down on top of him. In one quick movement, he flips me over so I am beneath him.
“I wanted to have you for breakfast.”
I giggle up at him. “You have me all day.”
He gives me a sharp pump with his hips. “And I will.”
He rolls off me, sits up, and then hits a button on his bedside. I hear a motorized sound. I look around to see the shutters over the windows rising. Natural light begins to flood through the room.
“What the heck is that?” I frown.
“Security shutters.”
“On every window?”
He sips his coffee. “Yes, bella.”
“What on earth for?”
“So that people can’t shoot through the glass.”
My mouth falls open. “Are you serious?”
He smiles, amused by my horror. “Yes, security shutters are for security.” He raises his brows as he sips his coffee. “Shocking, isn’t it?”
“Smartass.” I point to his plate. “Eat your breakfast.”
He smiles and starts to eat. I walk over and pull the drapes back to look outside. My breath catches.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. He chuckles and I turn to him. “That view?”
“Beautiful, huh?” He chews his food casually.
I look back out of the window to the huge bed of water in front of us. “That’s a lake?” I ask, unsure if it’s the ocean or something.
“Well, we are at Lake Como.” He smirks against his coffee cup.
I turn. “You’re being very cheeky this morning, Mr. Ferrara. You want to be careful I don’t smack your behind.”
He chuckles and continues eating. I look back out the window. There’s a huge manicured garden and a little boat house that sits on the edge of the water, and a wharf. “You have your own wharf?”
“Yes.” He keeps chewing, totally uninterested in all the wonderful things I can see through the window. I look directly down and see a deep blue pool. “You have a pool?” I shriek.
He smiles as he finishes his breakfast. “Yes, bella.”
I press my hands on the glass as I peer down into the yard. “Oh, Rici, this place is divine,” I sigh dreamily.
He smiles and taps his lap. I go to him. “I hope you will be happy here.”