63
Michael
It was a rough start, but after our cold first encounter, Elisa and I now spend every free moment together, and not just in the bedroom, another absolute novelty for me.
I’m trying to show her more of my life here because, since there’s no guarantee the Bingleys will accept her offer, I’ve become more determined than ever to ask her to live with me. Here.
I asked her once before, but it was bad timing. We were both on the defensive and neither of us were hearing the other properly.
I respect her life, her work, her passion, and how they overlap, but if she lost the vineyard and had to start from scratch, I would like us to be together.
Tonight she came with me to a business dinner, an event organized by the Saxton & D’Arcy partners.
“I hope you’re not too offended if I tell you that event was excruciatingly boring. We could have skipped it and gone straight to this,” Elisa tells me while we bask in the bathtub, her reclining on my chest, playing with the foam.
“I know they’re boring. I never go to them.”
“Why did you take me, then? Were you trying to punish me?”
“I wanted to introduce you to Saxton. He’s practically my adopted father.”
“Did I make a good impression on him?”
“Excellent.”
“That’s good. Because we could have carved out more time for ourselves since this is my last night. If you hadn’t brought me home, I would have dragged you into the closet and taken advantage of you.”
“That’s not a given,” I reply.
“What’s not a given? That I would be able to take advantage of you? Look, I too can be very convincing.”
“This doesn’t necessarily have to be your last evening.”
She turns to look at me with a funny ball of foam on the tip of her nose. “What do you mean?”
I swipe off the foam with my finger, and then caress the profile of her lips. “Why don’t you stay another week? You don’t have anything pressing at the estate ...”
“What about Linda?”
“Your mother and Donatella are with her, and Giada will be back tomorrow morning.”
“But what would I do in London?”
“We’re together, you can take in the city, have a break ...” I try to convince her. “Don’t say no.”
“If I’m basing my answer on tonight’s riveting soiree, it would be an outright no.”
“How about we base it on this?” I ask, kissing her.
“Nice, but not convincing enough.”
“You’re really demanding ...” my hands search for her under the water and find her immediately as her legs spread to welcome me. “Better?”
“Now we’re talking.”
“I love you,” I repeat, for what must be the millionth time.
“I love you.”
