I didn't finish what I was saying—because I couldn't.
“What are you doing?”I shrieked as Stefan picked me up in his arms.“Put me down!”
In typical Stefan fashion, he didn't listen to me.Instead, he smiled and said, “You are so fuckin' cute.”His eyes gazed over my face.“So fuckin' cute.”His lips touched mine in a quick, hard kiss.
“Why did you pick me up?”I asked, feeling breathless.
He walked us over to the now open door.“It's customary for a husband to carry his new wife over the threshold of their home.”
7
Francesca
Did he just say what I thought he said?
Stefan carried me through the huge doors into the enormous castle.A gorgeous long staircase led up, up and up.Almost further than I could see.Stefan set me down just as the driver walked in with our luggage.He and Stefan spoke in Italian for a minute or two and then the driver nodded to me and left, closing the door behind him.
“Are you hungry?”he asked.“Or would you rather have a tour?”
I looked to the left and saw a formal sitting room.To the right, I spotted a large dining table with a billion chairs around it.And I couldn’t even see the whole thing.
“Umm,” I said, gazing at the staircase again.“Is this really—” my throat got dry, “yours?”
He stepped in front of me and put his hands on my hips.“Yes, Francesca.And now it's also yours.”
That made me giggle.Because it most certainly was not—mine.I didn't own a freaking castle.And I never, ever would.“Yeah, okay,” I said sarcastically.
He tilted his head slightly and kissed my lips.“It's a lot to get used to.I understand.Come, I'll find us something to eat.”He let go of my hips and grabbed my hand.We walked toward the dining room, and I took in the stunning old woodwork everywhere I looked.The dining room table looked old.Like old, old.And the detailing on those chairs was—incredible.My fingertips grazed over a chair as we walked by.
Through the dining room and around the corner was the kitchen.
My feet stopped.
Dead in their tracks.
“Whoa,” I said, physically unable to move or say anything else.
Stefan stepped in front of me and asked, “What's wrong?”
I moved around him and—stared.
At the ocean view in front of me.
Windows and windows and—windows.Of ocean.
I wasn't sure how long I stood there like that—in a trance-like state.
Just.
Staring.
At the beauty.
More beautiful than any picture anyone in the world could ever paint.
“Do you like your kitchen?”Stefan whispered into my ear.I hadn't even realized he was now behind me.His arms wrapped around tight, holding me to his body.Which was probably a good thing because right now, my legs felt a little weak.
I let out a small, forced laugh.“My—kitchen?”I shook my head and reluctantly turned my head and looked at him over my shoulder.“It's your kitchen, Stefan.And,” I turned my head back to the unbelievable view, “it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”
