Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
The loss of so many lives will be tragic. It’s unfortunate. Yet it can’t be helped. When it comes to Tatiana, there’s nothing I won’t do to keep her safe.
Chapter
Seventeen
Tatiana
* * *
Dante and I were separated.
I can’t get my head around that.
Trust can be broken in many ways. Losing trust in someone is serious. I should’ve asked Dante for more details instead of being a coward about it. Maybe I would’ve summoned the courage if Reino hadn’t interrupted us. Now, every time I consider broaching the subject, my nerve fails me.
If we’re together, it’s because we’ve worked through our problems. Is it worth digging up old bones? Isn’t it better to leave the issues we’ve already dealt with in peace? At least for now, until I remember. With my memory loss and the mystery surrounding my disappearance, Dante and I have a lot on our plates.
Determined not to make a big deal out of Dante’s confession, I do my best to push the thought out of my mind. I go about my afternoon, playing with Noah. Jazz entertains us with a practice run of her upcoming audition. The three of us get dressed up in her costumes and dance to the songs from the musical, which results in a lot of laughing and ends up with Noah jumping on her bed.
After dinner, Dante joins me in reading Noah a story. Once we’ve tucked him in, Dante returns to his study to work. I change into a silk nightdress with lace trimmings and read in bed for a while, but I can’t concentrate on the cosy mystery. Too many questions run in circles through my mind.
Giving up on the story, I pull on the bathrobe that matches the negligee and pad barefoot down the quiet hallway. Footlights illuminate my way.
Downstairs, I pause in the foyer. Light spills from under the study door. I don’t want to bother Dante when he’s working. Resisting the urge to check in on him, I carry on to the kitchen where I keep the lights on a dim setting and try to be quiet as I fill the kettle with water and put it on the stove.
While I wait for the water to boil, I prepare a mug. Then I stare through the big window. A few spotlights fall on the trees and cycads in the garden. Lights are on in the summerhouse as well as in the pool. The turquoise water glimmers like a translucent gemstone against the dark blue of the night. It looks inviting, but the weather is turning, and it’s starting to get chilly outside.
In the far corner of the backyard, the windows of the guesthouse are dark. The guards who patrol the property sometimes sleep there if they work in shifts. Dante commissioned more men than necessary to surveil the neighborhood. He doesn’t want to take any risks now that I’m home.
Home.
What Dante told me probably explains why I don’t feel at home in this beautiful house. The environment still seems foreign. Sometimes, I can’t shake the weird notion of hostility that creeps up on me in quiet moments such as now.
The shrill whistle of the kettle cuts into my thoughts and makes me jump. I grab the kettle and remove it from the heat to stop the noise before switching off the gas.
I’m pouring hot water over the teabag in the mug when movement in the reflection of the glass catches my eye. I lift my head to see Dante entering the kitchen.
I put the kettle on a cork plate, take my mug, and turn around. “Hi.”
He eyes the mug that I cup between my hands. “Can’t sleep?”
“Sorry.” I rest my backside against the counter. “I didn’t mean to distract you from your work. I tried to be quiet, but I got lost in thought and forgot to remove the kettle before the water boiled.”
He crosses the floor and stops in front of me. “What were you thinking about?”
“The house.” I shrug a shoulder. “It’s beautiful. I was just admiring the garden and the pool.”
“I’m glad you like it.” His deep, gruff timbre makes my skin come alive with prickles of sensual awareness. “And you can distract me anytime.”
Only Dante can turn me on with nothing but his voice. I have a hard time keeping my own voice level. To my credit, I even manage an eye roll. “You know what I mean. I didn’t want to bother you.”
His smile is warm. “You can never bother me.”
The pleasant feeling that spreads through my chest is even warmer. I lift the mug. “Want some?”
He comes closer and sniffs the tea. “Chamomile?”
I nod.
“No, thanks.” His smile stretches, making his dimple appear. “I’ll pass.”
“I can make you something else.”
He shoves a hand in his pocket. “I’m good, but I appreciate the offer.”
His stance is relaxed, but the shirt that fits his broad chest and hard abdomen like a glove is creased, and his hair is messy like when he’s raked his fingers through it repeatedly.