Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
We lay in bed together until the light started to fade from the windows, the sunshine giving way to a dull blue. I’d only been in the apartment for a couple hours, but now it felt like home once it’d been christened by Constantine.
He didn’t say much, just looked at me, his fingers trailing over my hip and down my thigh, lightly feeling the curves of my body as if he’d forgotten the details in the two weeks we’d been emotionally apart.
I hadn’t forgotten how unbelievably good looking he was, but it’d been a while since I’d seen him in the flesh, and damn, he was perfect. His arms were thick as trees, his stomach was firm as a wall, and the ink on his flesh was both a warning and a depiction of artwork.
My hand moved up the hills and mountains of muscle on his arm as I studied the details of his tattoos, a sword that was used by gladiators, words written in Latin I didn’t understand, and when my eyes moved to his chest, I saw the outline of Sicily . . . right over his heart. “That’s cute.” I traced the outline of the island like I could feel the mountains and the sea beneath my fingertips. “It must have taken a long time for you to do all of this.”
“I started when I was young, to my mother’s horror.” A little smirk moved over his lips. “It’s a miracle she’s still alive, raising two boys identical in every way you can imagine.”
“Well, your sister seems nice.”
“Because she’s an angel,” he said. “Did well in school. Helped out at home. All about the family.”
She’d been nice enough to me, but I could tell she preferred Isabella. She wanted only her as her sister-in-law, not anyone else. Now that I knew they’d hooked up some time recently, I understood why his sister still hoped they’d find their way back to each other. And that was probably why his mother didn’t show preference, because she had no idea.
If she did know, would that have changed anything?
His hand left my hip and moved to my flat stomach, cupping it like a husband touched his pregnant wife’s belly. “Hungry?”
“Why? Can you feel it rumble?”
He smirked. “A little.” His hand continued to rub over my skin, and while I should feel self-conscious with him touching me like that, it made me feel somewhat petite. “Want to go out?”
“I dunno. Kinda tired.” Now that I was in this warm bed with this gorgeous man, I didn’t want to leave.
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Anything.”
He left the bed to fish his phone out of his pocket, his rock-hard, tight ass on display.
I wanted to bite a chunk out of it.
He came back to bed with the phone and fired off a quick message before he set the device on the nightstand. “Be here in about an hour.”
“What?”
“Dinner.”
“You ordered from one of those food delivery apps?”
“No. Told my assistant to do it.”
“You have an assistant?” I asked in slight surprise.
“Yes.”
“Like . . . a female assistant?” He seemed so self-sufficient that he wouldn’t need an assistant. But I forgot he had a demanding job, so he probably did have help. Help with his home, groceries, laundry, all kinds of stuff.
Amusement moved into his gaze. “You need time to heal, and now you’re jealous?”
“I’m not jealous. Just curious.”
“You’re in luck, because I don’t employ women.”
“You don’t? Seems a little sexist.”
“Maybe. But my intentions are good.”
“How so?” I asked.
“It’s a dangerous business. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them. I like women a hell of a lot more than men, so . . .”
“Because you can’t help yourself?”
He looked like he might smile, but that smirk never came to the surface. “Because they’re better in every way. Morally. Emotionally. Physically. My father was a good man, and I loved him dearly. He taught me how to punch, but my mother taught me how to fight. He taught me how to fish, but my mother taught me how to cook. Whenever he’d catch a cold, he’d be sick in bed for days, but when my mother had the flu, she’d still get us ready in the morning, cook breakfast, and take us to school. My mother carried and birthed three children while running the house and taking care of everyone else. I’m the man I am today because my mother raised me that way.”
And just like that, he pulled me in deeper. He trapped me in his magnetism like a moth to a flame.
“Emperor Augustus had a daughter. Her name was Julia. She had six children, and my line comes from one of those six.” He propped himself up on his arm, looking down at me slightly. “But when his reign ended, he chose to adopt his nephews and make one of them the next emperor.” He gave a slight shake of his head as if he was personally offended by something that had happened two thousand years ago. “Took away her birthright simply because she was a woman rather than a man. It’s fucking bullshit, because this world would be a much better place if more women were in charge. The world we inherited would be better. Fewer lives would be lost because fewer wars would have been fought. Because women think before they punch. They can fight an entire battle and eviscerate you with just words, while most men can barely put a few words together and form a sentence.” He looked away like he was reflecting on a memory. “My job is to protect women, so no, I don’t employ them. But if I ever have a daughter and she ever wanted a job, it’d be hers.”