“You never argue with me.” Vittorio turned her hand over and pressed a kiss into the center of her palm. “I like that you don’t pick a fight just for the sake of argument.”
“It would be a little difficult to do that with you. You’re pretty reasonable, Vittorio.”
He led her into a very large kitchen. There was a small, intimate table already set with dishes and warmers. He led her straight to it and pulled back her chair for her. “There are three dining areas. This one, which is perfect for the two of us in the mornings,” he told her, seating her. “The two larger dining areas have varying views. One is a bit larger than the other; in other words, if my family comes over, we use that one.” He flashed a small grin at her.
His smile was warm, impossible to ignore, and did something to her insides, making her feel happy. Happiness wasn’t something she was used to feeling and it shocked her a little. “You have a very large family.” The women came and went very quickly in the morning, helping her to shower and dress and then they simply were gone, disappearing as if they’d never been.
“We’re loud and always in one another’s business,” he pointed out. “But we always have one another’s backs.”
The way he said it, she wondered why they would need to stand for one another—as if they had problems similar to hers. She doubted they had had a serial killer after them until she’d brought one with her.
Before she could remind him of Haydon stalking them all, he turned the conversation back to his earlier subject. “Do you really think I’m reasonable? Not every woman would think it was reasonable that I need to take care of my lady. In fact, I think most wouldn’t like it, Grace.”
She looked up at his face. There was a hint of worry there and that shocked her. Vittorio was the most confident man she’d ever met, and in her profession, she routinely met CEOs of powerful businesses. Such men didn’t worry about what other people thought. They did what they thought best and expected everyone else to get with the program. And yet the look in Vittorio’s eyes told her that, to her at least, he was vulnerable—that her good opinion mattered to him. On the heels of that realization came the immediate and compelling need to reassure him, to erase that hint of doubt.
“Vittorio, I love the way you are with me. For my business, I make decisions all day, argue with vendors and push and push to get what I want for my clients. By the time I go home, I think my brain is fried. I don’t want to make another decision or think about anything until I go to work the next morning. I imagine most people are like that. You’ve given me this opportunity to actually relax and I appreciate it more than you will ever know. It’s been a relief not to have to think too much about anything. I realize that’s unrealistic and that sooner or later I have to come to some decisions and take back charge of my life, but for right now, it’s been the most amazing three weeks in spite of the pain in my shoulder, so thank you.”
Vittorio had opened the warmers sitting on the table and poured coffee for Grace. He straightened slowly and looked down at her upturned face. He wanted to frame her face with both hands and kiss her senseless. She had no idea what a gift she’d just given him. She was the one he’d searched for. She was the one he hadn’t believed could possibly exist. She had strength, a backbone of steel, and yet she could put herself in his hands and give him what he needed in their relationship.
He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and took her mouth, one hand settling in her hair, bunching the silk into his fist. At the first touch of his lips, the first demand of his tongue, she opened for him and he tasted everything he’d ever need. He’d kissed a lot of women, more than he ever cared to admit, but he’d never felt. Not like this. Not this shocking hunger that consumed him. Not a need that would never be sated.
Her taste was unique and appealed to him on every level. She didn’t have a lot of—if any—experience.