Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Over thirty years later, and even with my father in prison, they were utterly devoted to each other.
Carmen laughed again. “Best tell your mother before anyone else does, or your ears will be ringing from being boxed before listening to her curse you out in Italian for a couple of hours.”
I winced, knowing she was right, but… “Vivienne should probably know first.”
“Good point. Now open the door so I can set this down—stop trying to help like I’m some kind of invalid, Raffaele!”
Sighing in exasperation, I unlocked the door—ignoring her raised eyebrows—and pushed it open. She knew exactly why the door had been locked.
Carmen set the tray on a beautifully carved oak desk that matched the rest of the furniture in the bedroom. After adjusting it to her satisfaction, she turned around and winked at me as she scrolled to the door and left.
I didn’t hear the shower running any longer, but there was no evidence that Vivienne had come out of the bathroom yet.
The door cracked as if she could read my thoughts, sending a billow of steam rushing out.
“Rafa?” Her head popped out, and she looked around until she spotted me sitting at the desk, eating a grape while texting on my phone. I’d just finished sending a list of items, along with the measurements of Vivienne's dress for size comparison, to a personal shopper who worked exclusively for the Family. Everything would be delivered tonight, and I promised her a thousand-dollar tip if she could get it all situated in the closet without waking up Vivienne.
When I looked up, I nearly choked as the door opened a little farther, showing off Vivienne’s incredible body in nothing but a towel.
“Feeling better, cara?” I croaked, trying to focus on something other than the lust barreling through me.
“Yes, but um…did you say something about clothes because I’d really rather not put that scratchy dress back on and—”
I grasped onto her comment like a lifeline because it gave me something else to think about besides what was under the terry cloth wrapped around her.
“Right. Um, yes. I brought you something to sleep in.” The pajamas were a satin sleep set, a tank top and shorts in a deep purple color that would make her blue eyes look amazing. It was going to be pure torture watching her walk around in them, but I wanted to make sure she ate and had everything she needed before leaving her to sleep.
I stood and picked up the clothes from where I’d set them on the dresser, quickly taking them over to her.
Vivienne frowned at the silky pajamas as she took them from me. “These look like they belong to a woman.”
My head cocked to the side, and my mouth curved up a little. “If you’re expecting me to correct you and claim they’re mine, I will have to disappoint you.”
Vivienne didn’t laugh as I’d expected. She stared at me with a furrowed brow, and her blue eyes sparking with what looked like anger, though she was attempting to hide it. “Um, I doubt your wife will be very comfortable with you lending her pajamas to some strange woman.”
It probably made me a bastard, but smug satisfaction settled in my chest when I realized why she was upset. “I’m not married, cara.”
She looked relieved for a second, then her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something disgusting. “I suppose one of the many women who’ve fallen at your feet left those here?”
I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t want to make her so angry that she didn’t believe me when I explained. “These belong to my sister, Gabriella. But everyone calls her Gabbi.”
“Your sister?” she squeaked, her cheeks suddenly bursting with color.
“Yes, all of my siblings have a room in this house for when they need it.” I couldn’t stop a wide grin from splitting my face as I trailed a finger along her jaw. “Jealousy is a very good look on you, cara.”
She seemed momentarily stunned as she stared at my face but then shook herself out of it. “I wasn't jealous,” she defended.
I decided not to contradict her. “I haven’t been in a relationship in…well, in a very long time. It’s not easy to trust in my line of work.”
“And what line is that?”
Pushing gently on her shoulder, I urged her to move back into the bathroom. “A conversation for another time, cara. Get changed and come eat.”
It was clear that she wanted to push for more, but the events of the day were clearly catching up with her. Sighing, she shut the door, then reemerged a few minutes later in the pajamas and padded over to the desk while finger-combing her long, damp locks.
“Eat. I’ll see if Gabbi has a brush you can use.”
I jogged back to my sister’s suite and located a comb in her vanity, then returned to Vivienne, who was chewing on a bite of cracker.