Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Giovanni shoots me a look, but there’s a softness in his eyes, too. He’s grateful my laughter demolished the barrier between us.
His relief doesn’t linger long. Dante’s expression morphs when he looks at me, and humor fades from his face. A subtle gleam in his eyes reveals he has more walls to knock down than Giovanni.
He studies me as if he’s searching for proof that I’m an opportunist. His caution is understandable. Not only are the Caruso brothers drool-worthy gorgeous but they’re also obviously wealthy. Dante’s watch could cover my property tax arrears and several decades in advance.
As I start to tell Dante that greed will never motivate me, he hooks his thumb toward the main house. “Come on. The old man’s out of bed. You’ll want to see this.”
With Giovanni’s hand warm and steady on my back, I walk through the orchard this time instead of running. The sight of three men snickering as we turn toward the main house sends a shiver of embarrassment up my spine. The Caruso brothers, though different, share distinguishable genetic qualities.
Out of all the people to catch us, why did it have to be Giovanni’s family?
The mansion looks straight out of a fictional fairy tale. It’s alive with light and laughter. Giovanni’s father is in the courtyard, surrounded by a handful of well-wishers. Even though his body is frail and weak, he is full of energy as he converses with his guests.
He looks nothing like the dying man I imagined.
I avert my eyes from a man I’d guess to be mid to late fifties when Giovanni brushes his lips against my sweaty temple. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He breathes in deeply, as if obsessed with our intermingled scents. “There are drinks by the entryway, and waitstaff will serve hors d’oeuvres shortly. Make yourself at home. My casa is your casa, Valentina, and you’re welcome to anything your heart desires.”
His wish to make me comfortable in his domain has me desperate to reacquaint our lips. I hold back the urge—barely. His brothers are waiting for him near the large outdoor space, and Dante’s foot is tapping with impatience.
Giovanni waits for me to nod before he joins his brothers for an impromptu Caruso family meeting. Things seem tense between them, but nothing can detract my focus from the patriarch of the Caruso dynasty.
Giovanni’s father’s lively interaction with his guests makes me hope my mother will one day be as animated. He seems happy and content, as if nothing can bring him down.
I’m not the only one noticing his spiritedness.
Even with all his brothers speaking to him at once, Giovanni’s eyes rarely drift from me. On the odd occasion they do, it is to take in his father.
Several long minutes later, the patriarch’s gaze settles on me. His watch is curious and direct. “And who’s this fine young lady?” His accent is thick, and contradictory to his age, it brims with natural flirtatiousness.
Now I know who Giovanni inherited his charm from.
“Hi. I’m Valentina R—”
Out of nowhere, Valeria appears at his side. Her smile is bright when directed at Giovanni’s father, but the instant it lands on me, it turns brittle. “This is the surrogate I was telling you about, Papa.” Her tone is light-hearted, but her eyes are cold.
Giovanni’s father raises a solid brow. “Surrogate?”
Valeria loops her arm through his and steers him away from me before launching into an explanation of surrogacy, as if that is all I am to his son. A vessel of conception. “A surrogate is a woman who carries a baby for someone else. It’s all very modern…”
Humiliation flushes my face as the odds of a stomach ulcer intensify.
Giovanni knows I didn’t deliberately set out to deceive him, but that’s only the beginning of the issues we still need to work through.
It wouldn’t be an issue if I didn’t immediately lose focus the instant he dragged his thumb over my nipple.
Too angry to remain around over two dozen people, I seek the closest exit.
Giovanni isn’t the sole recipient of my anger. I’m more mad at myself than him.
I barely get two steps away when Giovanni foils my attempt to get some air by snatching up my arm. Violently, I yank away from him, and the pop my arm makes draws a crowd of curious onlookers.
“Not now, Valentina.” Giovanni’s voice is as cold as ice. “I can’t chase you right now.”
My anger is already at a pinnacle, but it escalates into uncharted territory when he turns to face a nearby maid and orders her to take me to my room.
Her head barely reaches my chin, and she’s so tiny a breeze could carry her away. She’s no competition for me, and I’ll make sure she knows that the moment we’re alone.
“Make sure she gets there safely.”
This time, Giovanni’s barked command isn’t for a five-foot-five maid with cutesy curls. It’s for one of the men lurking in the shadows earlier. The biggest and baddest looking of the four interrupters we faced only twenty minutes ago.