“Bella?”
“Uh-huh?” I ask my lap.
“I must once again apologize for the way you were treated when you first came to my house.” Eli’s voice is low, and there’s a throb of genuine sadness inside it.
“You don’t need to say sorry again, Daddy. I know you regret it.”
“You’ll never know how much I regret it.” His fingers caress my cheek as though I’m a kitten. “If I could go back and change what happened…to treat you like the angel you are. To give you the comfort and reassurance you needed…”
I smile at the thought of a parallel Velvet House where my men were exactly as they are now. Bobby helping me cook pasta. Doc and I watching animated movies. Eli walking me around his rose gardens the way he does now, pointing out squirrels and kissing my cheeks. Adriano massaging my feet and painting pictures of me and calling me Pryntsesa. But as sweet as that image is, it’s also absurd.
“I think it had to be the way it was,” I tell Eli. “We all had so much growing to do. And as hard as it was, it brought us here. I like where we are now.”
Eli lets out a sigh. “You’re right as always, my ruby. But Parker has taken many things from me. That I allowed my anger toward him to terrorize the woman of my dreams… I’ll never forgive myself for it.”
“But I forgive you,” I say, stroking his leg. “Doesn’t that count?”
“It counts for everything, I only wish—”
“Wishes are for fools,” I say, quoting my Zia Teresa.
Eli laughs. He has the perfect laugh, rich and ringing. “Again, you’re right, even if you are a little brat.”
I bite back a smirk and adopt my sweetest most wide-eyed expression. “Have I done a good enough job cleaning for you Mr. Morelli?”
Eli’s face changes. His angular jaw juts and his brows lower over shining dark eyes. “I think it’s more than adequate,cameriera.”Housemaid.
My heart starts pulsing in double time, the way it always does when Eli focuses his dark intensity on me. “Is there anything else I can do to assist you before dinner?”
He makes a face as though he’s bored and contemplating how to be less so. “Why don’t you take your little T-shirt off?”
My stomach drops as though he really is my boss. “I… I don’t know if I should…?”
“You asked what you could do to assist me,” he says lightly. “I want to see if you look as good underneath your clothes as you do in them.”
“But—”
Eli gets up and takes a step backward. “I suppose my father will have to hear about you disobeying me,cameriera.And I don’t know that he’ll give you a letter of referral before he sends you on your way.”
Humiliation mixes with my nerves and heat surges into my underwear. I don’t know why I like being treated this way, but I’ve learned not to question it. To just go where my body takes me. I fumble for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. “Is that…okay?”
Eli studies my torso, his face expressionless. “Take off your bra.”
With trembling fingers, I unsnap the plain pink lace and free my breasts. They’ve gotten bigger, swelling to F cups in the past year. I raise my hands and cover my nipples, pushing them together. “Is this okay, Mr. Morelli?”
“Call meSir.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I kneel uncomfortably on the hard floor, letting Eli look at me. A self-conscious flush burns across my cheeks, matched by the warmth between my legs.
Eli grips my jaw, harder than before turning my face from side to side. “You’re quite pretty for a servant girl.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Although you’re filthy. And you smell like cleaning products.”
My flush intensifies. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
