She nods, her eyes still scanning the surroundings. With each step, she takes a moment to inhale the sweet, fragrant scent of the roses that fill every room. I make sure I replace them every other day with fresh ones.
“I love these roses.” She pauses in front of another vase brimming with them. “They’re so beautiful. Where do you get them? I spent a lot of time trying to track down the florist.”
“I grow them.”
I nudge her forward, encouraging her to discover her surprise.
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
I chuckle softly, but I remain silent, savoring the moment. I grow all these roses in honor of my mother. Her favorite flowers were fragrant roses, and she couldn’t help but stop and inhale their sweet scent anytime she came across them. I have an entire indoor greenhouse full of them. It’s something I don’t share with anyone.
“I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
She sighs heavily. “Well, can you at least tell me if we’re almost there?”
“You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you?”
When she stops, she huffs and crosses her arms over her chest in irritation. I give her a gentle push, encouraging her to move forward, and she resumes her strides.
“Well, if you tell me what I want to know, I’ll stop being impatient, Florian.”
This is the Arabelle who fills my senses with love and joy. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t want someone who’ll tiptoe around me, afraid to be themselves because of who I am. I need a partner. Someone on my level.
Arabelle is definitely on my level.
Correction. She’s leagues above me.
I grab her by the arm, stopping her in front of the door that leads to the in-house dance studio that I had custom-built for her so she can stay at home and practice dancing.
“This is it. Close your eyes.”
She starts to protest.
“Please,” I tack on to keep her from arguing with me.
My mother always used to say that a spoonful of honey is the best way to calm a bee.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of something before she conceals it. She’s been doing that for most of the day. I’ve noticed her gaze lingering on me when she believes I’m not looking. However, I see everything she does.
Reluctantly, she sighs but complies with my request. “Is this it?”
“Yes.” I twist the doorknob and give the door a firm push, feeling a rush of cool air brush against my skin. “You can open them now.”
She slowly peels her eyes open and gasps. Her hands tremble as they rise to cover her mouth in disbelief. She takes tentative steps inside the room, her eyes darting around, taking in every detail.
I absolutely don’t know shit about ballet, so I reached out to Madame Rostova, Arabelle’s dance instructor in Los Angeles, to ensure the best design for this room. Anything Arabelle needs to excel, if I can’t provide it, I’ll find someone who can. Hopefully, this is up to her standards, but if it isn’t, then I’ll tear everything out and have it done the way she wants it.
According to the old ballerina, the high-density foam beneath the special Marley vinyl flooring helps lower stress on the bones and joints, reducing the risk of Arabelle getting injured. Also, along withMegan,I had a state-of-the-art music system installed.This way, Arabelle can simply askMeganto play any musical number she needs, eliminating the need for her to struggle with CDs or music apps on her phone. The studio is flooded with natural light, thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up one wall of the room. Along another wall, there are mirrors and a floor-mounted barre for her to use. She has everything in this one room to make sure she performs to the best of her abilities.
“This is amazing.” She kicks off her heels and walks barefoot across the floor toward the barre. With a gentle touch, she runsher fingers across it with the largest smile on her face. “This is…wow.” She turns and walks back to me, her gaze never leaving mine. “You had this built for me?”
I push my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching out to touch her. “You deserve nothing but the best.”
She reaches up, and her fingers delicately trace the contours of my face. I shut my eyes, savoring the sensation.
“I can never repay you for this, Florian. No one has ever done anything so sweet for me. I’m at a loss for words to explain how much this means to me.”
