Her eyelashes flutter, and then she glances over at me. “Thank you.”
“We’re going to the mansion. You’ve been there before.”
“Once,” she says with a nod. “Briefly.”
“It’s your new home. I want you to be comfortable there, Natasha.”
She bites her lip and then nods timidly, and I keep her hand in mine for the rest of the drive. When my driver pulls up to the house, I turn to her.
“Wait for me here.”
“Okay.”
I climb out and fasten the button on my suit, then walk around the vehicle to open her door. Reaching across her, I unclip the belt and offer her my hand, helping her out and onto the pavement.
Before she can pull away, I sweep her up into my arms, and she lets out the cutest little yelp.
“What are you doing?” She wraps her arms around my neck, holding on.
“Carrying you over the threshold. It’s tradition.” I smile at her, and then open the door and walk through and set her back on her feet in the foyer. “Welcome home, Mrs. Stavros.”
She mouths the wordsMrs. Stavros, as if she’s giving them a try, and I take her hand again.
Natasha doesn’t pull away.Another win.
“Like I said, this is your home. You can change anything you don’t like. I got you your own credit card, but it isn’t here yet.”
“I get money?” she asks in surprise.
“Yes, you’ll have my card, and you can spend whatever you want. There’s no limit.” I keep my stride short so she doesn’t fall behind in the heels she’s wearing under that incredible dress, and lead her past the formal living room, dining room, and farther to my favorite parts of the house. “I don’t think you’ve been back here.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head, her eyes wide as she takes it all in.
“I spend most of my time back here. It’s more casual and comfortable.”
There’s a less formal living area with expansive windows that look out at the gardens and the pool. Yes, we live in the desert, but I wanted gardens, so I pay a shit ton to have them maintained.
The furniture is comfortable, and the room looks into the gourmet kitchen.
But Natasha only has eyes for my Steinway.
She drops my hand and makes a beeline for the baby grand piano, and immediately runs her fingers over the keys.
“This is incredible,” she breathes.
“Do you play?”
She nods and then bites her lip. “Can I use it?”
“Any time you want. Come, I’ll show you the rest, and then you can get settled.”
Reluctantly, she leaves the piano, and then to my surprise, she slips her hand in mine again, as if it’s the most natural thing, and I smile in response.
“Help yourself in the kitchen.” I gesture to the fridge. “It’s well stocked, but if you want or need anything specific, just tell me, and I’ll make sure it’s brought in.”
“Thank you,” she whispers softly.
Leading her to the stairs, we then climb to the second floor, and I gesture to the doors that line the hallway.
