Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
When I paused to try to calm myself, her hand clamped around my tie and pulled me back in, greedy.
“I want to know which phrases,” I said, my lips trailing down the side of her neck.
“Try some out.”
So, I returned to my native language, finding the idea of her American ears understanding me wildly appealing. “I’m so happy to see you.”
She answered in German. “I’m happy to see you too.”
My mouth roved over her skin as my hands slipped down her back. “I like your shoes.”
“Thank you.”
“They make me want to do indecent things to you right now, right here in this office.”
Clearly that was too much, judging by her blank stare. She shook her head, and I had half a mind to communicate it in a different way, but I was enjoying this game. “Are you staying?”
She gave me an enormous smile. “Yes.” Her voice was quiet, but the words were strong. “You are my home.”
I couldn’t wait another second; I needed her now. My suit jacket came off easily, and I tossed it onto my desk, but my gaze snagged on the black box sitting there.
Well . . . I was going to have to give my assistant a raise. Or at least a bonus for making what I was about to do possible.
I snapped up the box and pulled the engagement ring from it, turning to face her. I moved deliberately, stalking toward her, her wide eyes fixed on the ring. She looked petrified, but she didn’t run from me, or this moment that was rapidly evolving into something powerful and monumental.
There was a sharp breath from her when I sank to one knee, grasping her trembling left hand in mine.
“I’ll love you forever. Marry me.”
Her gaze drifted from the ring slowly to connect with my eyes.
I spoke in English then. “Do you know what I just said?”
“Yes.”
I blinked. “Yes, you understand or—?”
“Yes. Yes, Shawn, yes.”
For the second time, I slid the ring on her finger, but this time it was her choice that I did so, and it carried the meaning it was supposed to. I couldn’t get to my feet fast enough, lifting her in my arms. “Did I miss any of the phrases you learned?”
“Yeah, but . . . they’re not safe for work.”
I grinned, utterly thrilled. “Why don’t you let me decide that?”
There wasn’t any point in arguing. I always got what I wanted.
46
FOUR MONTHS LATER
ETHAN
Blinding light reflected off the windshield of Giovanni Abramo’s car when it parked beside the hangar, momentarily flashing in my eyes, aggravating me. I’d been fighting a headache since accepting this terrible job.
The thirty-year-old Italian man with curly dark hair stepped out of the car and went to the trunk to fish out an enormous bag that looked like it weighed as much as he did.
I wound up doing the work, as I knew I would. Giovanni was used to being waited on, and he only spoke Italian. All other languages were inferior and beneath the Abramo family.
“I take it you’re Nathan?” Giovanni asked, looking up to meet my eyes that were almost a foot above his.
I’d been told my Italian was almost flawless. “Yes. Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m glad you were available. My last guy got sick, and I thought I was going to have to cancel. I’ve been planning this trip for months.”
Unbeknownst to Giovanni, his bodyguard had come down with a horrible case of intentional drugging. I’d decided my character of ‘Nathan’ for this assignment would lack any personality and be all business. “I’d like to speak with the crew and inspect the plane.”
Giovanni gestured that direction, as if saying, “After you.”
Exterior inspection revealed nothing abnormal, but I didn’t find that surprising. Not too many people cared about Giovanni. His father Vitale was the one who garnered the most attention.
There was a crew of three attached to the jet, two men and a woman, all dressed in matching black attire. I evaluated the pilots, one young and one older. The flight attendant was in her late twenties, maybe thirty. Brunette. Utterly gorgeous, but they usually were on these private crews.
Sometimes they were simply in-flight, high-class hookers.
“I need to examine the interior,” I said to her.
Giovanni smirked. “None of them speak Italian. I believe Olivia is American.”
I repeated in English, and she blinked a pair of emerald green eyes at me. For a second, I saw a flash in them, an emotion I wasn’t expecting. Annoyance. Then, it was gone.
“All right, this way.” Her voice was lyrical and pleasing.
Once inside the plane, my head was an inch from the ceiling. She followed me and remained in the aisle while I inspected the seats and lavatory, watching me, curious.
“There’s nothing on board you need to worry about,” she said.
“Is that right?” I came closer, needing to make it past her to view the cockpit and galley.