Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Sure,” Dante says. “We can start making plans tomorrow.”
Noah squeals at that, and then his line of questioning turns to dogs and how to take care of them.
After thirty minutes of asking, “But why?” even Noah falls quiet as he tires.
No one says another word until we arrive home.
Instead of going inside, Dante drops Jazz and Noah off. He leaves them with double the number of guards he usually keeps at the house. I get to give Noah only a quick kiss before Dante bundles me back into the car. As if they’re sharing a secret, Noah winks at Dante as he waves us goodbye.
The same number of men follow us back toward town. Reino drives. A man I don’t know has taken Jazz’s place in the front. The sight of the gun he cradles on his lap makes me nervous.
Following my gaze, Dante cups my hand where it rests on the seat next to me. “Don’t worry. It’s just a precaution.”
When I try to pull my hand away, he tightens his grip and puts my hand on his thigh. An arrow shoots straight to my heart. The touch is both possessive and gentle, but that’s not what causes the reaction. It’s the familiarity. It’s how Dante used to hold my hand before everything crashed down around us. Bearing his show of ownership in silence, I try not to focus on it too much.
As we approach Manhattan, I glance at the familiar skyscrapers. “Where are you taking me? Shouldn’t I change first?”
Dante is vigilant, scouting the surroundings through his window. “Not for our destination.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
My laugh is wry. “Honeymoon?”
He looks at me. “Do you want one?”
“No,” I say quickly.
“You didn’t think we’d spend our wedding night at the house?”
I don’t know what I thought. Nothing has changed except for the contract that’s now binding between us. Why should we treat the night as anything special? It’s not as if he’s going to sleep with me for the first time.
And then it hits me.
No.
No, he can’t be taking me there.
But he does.
I recognize the building with the guesthouse on the top floor. My stomach contracts into a tight ball as the same old pain resurfaces, but I do my best not to show him how coming back here affects me. I pretend I don’t remember, saying nothing as Reino pulls into the underground parking.
Dante holds my hand in his lap, brushing a thumb over my knuckles as we wait in the car. He’s taken a gun from the seat pocket in front of him, holding it loosely in his free hand.
I swallow. “Do you expect trouble?”
“No.” He keeps his attention on the window. “I just prefer not to take anything for granted."
“If it’s a risk, why did you leave the house? Aren’t we safer there?”
He slides his gaze my way and replies in a deep, dark tone. “I’m not sharing you with anyone tonight. Tonight, darling, you’re mine alone.”
The meaning of his words sends a shiver of fear and anticipation down my spine.
The men get out first. They do a walk-around of the parking lot. Reino takes the elevator. He gives Dante a nod when he returns a few minutes later.
Dante gets out and offers me a hand. I want to ignore the gesture, but I’ll get tangled in the wide skirt and the long train. As it is, I’m battling to walk in the stilettos.
My nerves are frayed. I glance around, expecting someone to jump out behind a car and shoot at us, but we make it to the elevator safely.
“Clear,” Reino says under his breath as Dante steers me inside with an arm around my waist, keeping me close to his side.
I assume he means the guesthouse.
Reino punches the button for the top floor.
I’m trying not to think too much about what coming back here means. In an attempt to distract myself, I ask the first question that pops into my mind. “Who made the wedding arrangements?”
Dante frowns. “Why do you ask? Wasn’t it to your liking?”
“The flowers and the candles in the church were beautiful.”
He stares straight ahead at the numbers lighting up on the panel. “Penelope.”
I would’ve told him to thank her for me, but I didn’t choose to have this wedding.
Reino steps aside when we reach our floor and the doors open. “We’ll keep vigilant. The cameras are in place. We’ll know if anyone enters the parking lot or approaches any of the doors that give access to the street.”
Dante gives a tight nod before unlocking the door and escorting me inside. I stop dead in the entrance. The scene in front of me is a reincarnation of the past. The candles, the champagne, and the rose petals that litter the floor are the same. Only the chef is missing, but platters of cold finger food and dessert treats to nibble on are set out on the coffee table in the open-plan living area.