clearly followed him in the tabloids, reading everything his family fed to the paparazzi. She’d been drawn to him before she met him. Immense satisfaction filled him. He liked that, more than liked it.
“When we attend a fund-raiser, the idea is to get as much money as possible for the cause. To do that, we generate publicity. Bringing a model or an actress with a following helps to do just that. Some of those women are friends, some were simply a one-time hookup. That isn’t the same thing as a relationship.”
“It’s hard to believe that over the years you didn’t find another woman you wanted to be in a relationship with.”
He didn’t have the luxury of explanations. He was a shadow rider and that meant no one, no one, other than family, and even then only close family, could know the truth about him. She had to be in completely. Committed to him. The pull, for him, had been instant and strong. He tried to keep their shadows separated but being in such close proximity to her these last three weeks, sleeping in her room with her, meant their shadows were becoming entwined.
“Nevertheless, Grace, it’s the truth.”
She nodded her head and then gave him a sudden little frown. “I thought you said you can’t cook. This is delicious.”
She was changing the subject in order to give herself time to think. He didn’t want that, but she needed to feel comfortable and he wasn’t about to push her any more than he already had. He was grateful for her response and the fact that she was thoughtful instead of snapping out answers when she hadn’t had the time to consider all the things he’d laid out for her.
“You barely ate.”
“I ate. Who did the cooking?”
He smiled at her. “Merry Dubois. She’s a cousin as well. She married a man by the name of Marcellus Dubois while she was in culinary school. He was working on the building the classes were held in. Marcellus is the caretaker for the property, which is an enormous job. They live next door, our nearest neighbor.”
He liked the couple. They were quiet and respected his needs to keep his home a sanctuary. If repairs had to be made, Marcellus always scheduled them to be made when Vittorio wasn’t home. Merry not only did the cooking but supervised the cleaning staff as well. She also scheduled them when Vittorio wasn’t home. The couple really looked after him as well as his home, and he appreciated them more than he could ever express to them.
“I do have a cleaning crew who come in and take care of the house, but Merry oversees them.” He flashed her another smile, knowing she was attracted to him. Knowing he was unashamedly offering her his home, his lifestyle, in an effort to entice her to stay.
“Other than the fact that I can’t use my arm at all, this feels like a fairy tale.”
“Life with me isn’t always going to be a fairy tale, but I can promise you I will always do my best to make you happy. That’s important to me, Grace, making you happy.”
“Just so long as it’s okay that I make it a priority to make you happy.”
His heart jumped, but he refused to let himself believe she was going to give herself to him. He was asking for things she didn’t yet understand, and he refused to let her walk blind into a binding relationship until she knew exactly what she was getting into and was prepared to be fully committed. She had to want the same relationship, or he wasn’t right for her. Already he knew she was the one he wanted, and it had nothing to do with their shadows coming together.
He liked her. He liked the fact that she was so courageous. He admired her. She had lived in terror and under the threat of unspeakable violence for years, and yet every single day, she had functioned, worked, kept her integrity while trying to protect those around her.
“It would be nice if you did.”
Her eyes darkened in concern. “Vittorio, aren’t you happy?” Her gaze swung around the room, taking in the high ceilings and the incredible view of the lake and then came back to rest on his face.
He wasn’t going to give her less than the truth, not when he was asking so much of her. “Having money doesn’t make anyone happy, bella. That’s a myth. I present one face to the world and