“Well, he’s concerned. He got our private doctor’s number here in case you have any problems. But I’m glad to know that you’re feeling better. Caitlin said that she might be hiring you to organize her new home.”
“I hope I get the chance to work with your daughter,” I say more shyly than I would like. I kick myself for not responding with more assurance. But this whole business-owner thing is new to me.
“That would be wonderful. Organization is not one of Caitlin’s talents. And with her upcoming work schedule, there’s not much time to arrange things. I offered to help, but she doesn’t want her mom’s assistance. She said I’d take over, which,I have to admit, I probably would,” she says with a small laugh. “You’ll meet Caitlin at dinner tonight.”
Maricella squeezes my arm as she leads me up the wooden staircase. She turns back to watch Sebastian and her husband. Sebastian looks up, as if to assure himself I’m okay.
“I suspect your fiancé is very much like Dario,” Maricella says, “so I’m not surprised he’s overprotective. It’s sweet how men think they’re in charge. I pretend to let my husband think he’s getting his way, while I do just as I please.”
I almost stumble at her unexpected words. My bark of laughter comes out as a snort, and I turn to see the subject of our discussion still at the bottom of the stairs, chatting. Our luggage has disappeared, likely spirited away by invisible servants.
“Dinner’s in several hours. So let’s get you to your room so you can rest and change.”
And luckily, we’ve just made it to the second-floor landing because I do stumble then.
She said room. Not rooms.
Which makes sense because we’re “engaged.”
In an unconscious gesture, I look down at my hand. I’m still getting used to the weight of the ring on my finger. The gleaming flash of the large diamond that keeps catching my eye.
Then I look back to see that Sebastian’s caught up with us.
He winks.
CHAPTER 29
Emma
“There’s only one bed.”
“Yep.”
“Again.”
We’ll have several more nights sleeping together. And unlike the last few days, I’m feeling better, so I probably won’t be passing out before my head even hits the pillow.
I bite back a smile.
“It’s almost like someone up there wants us to sleep together. Which tracks because I believe in a benevolent God.” He grins as he bounces on the bed and stretches out his long, jeans-clad legs.
It’s still so new, his flirtatious words. He’s never beenthatSebastian to me before. He’s been my boss. And lately, he’s been my protective friend, who, yes, sometimes shares my bed.
But this version… The version of him that suggests he’s always wanted to sleep with me. The version of him that licks ice cream off my skin. That’s new, I think shakily.
Needing to settle myself, I walk over to the wooden doors to the balcony and fling them open. I gasp with delight. “Thisis perfection. I feel like I’m at a nineteenth-century French château.”
He looks over at the view lazily. Then he stares above him. “And, even better, there are naked people on the ceiling.”
I step back into the room and look up, following his gaze. Sure enough, there’s a mural that depicts some sort of Greek myth or biblical story showcasing a few loincloths and a lot of skin. “It’s beautiful. It’s art,” I defend.
“They’re naked.”
“And? Are you ten? I didn’t think you would be scandalized by a mural.”
“I’m just saying. Putting the bed directly under the frolicking nudists is a choice.”
I try not to laugh but fail. Sharing a room should be awkward, but after spending that time at my apartment, it’s not.
