Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I wanted to know who Dominic really was, what had happened in his past, and how it had shaped him. That was pointless, though. Obviously, he wasn’t interested in talking to me.
I showered and dressed, even if there wasn’t much point to it. I could just spend the day in my pajamas. Or, if I really wanted to get a rise out of Dominic—possibly in more ways than one—I could just walk around naked, but the house was far too cold for that to be any fun.
I left on my thick sweater and jeans and headed downstairs. When I stepped into the kitchen, I took a deep breath. Something smelled amazing—warm, sweet, and lemony.
“Oh my gosh, what did you make?” I asked Beatrice.
She smiled. “It’s ciambellone, but I didn’t make it.”
“You bought it? I’ve seen you make everything from scratch so far.”
“Mr. Marchesi made it.”
I stared at her. She might as well have told me she’d gotten it from Mars. “He really made this?”
“He’s a wonderful baker. He learned from his mother. He doesn’t use his skills much, but I guess it was another sleepless night, and he decided he wanted to make this. He said to be sure you had a piece. I think he might have meant it as an apology.”
I stared at her. “He actually apologizes?”
She smiled. “It’s rare, but he does do it sometimes.”
I accepted the mug of coffee Beatrice handed me and stared at the cake. It looked amazing. Imagining Dominic killing someone wasn’t a problem but imagining him baking a cake…. I tried to picture him standing at the counter, scooping flour and cracking eggs. I couldn’t imagine him doing anything so domestic, so…soft.
“Go ahead,” Beatrice said. “Try it.” She cut a slice and put it on a plate for me.
When I bit into the cake, I closed my eyes, needing to fully focus on the taste and texture. It was so light, so creamy and lemony. “This is amazing.”
Beatrice smiled. “It is. You should feel very lucky. He rarely bakes and almost never for anyone else.”
“Then why do that for me? He doesn’t even like me.”
“He might surprise you. He really is a good man.”
Talk about a lot of layers. “He is—was an assassin.”
“The men he killed were not people you’d want on this earth.”
But did that make him any better?
You’re the one who wanted him to join you in bed the other night.
So he was hot. That was irrelevant.
Interesting morals.
Shut up.
“Are you okay?” Beatrice asked.
I wasn’t about to admit I’d been arguing with myself about what I thought of Dom. “I’m fine. I guess I’m not fully awake yet. Dominic really made this in the middle of the night?”
She nodded. “I suppose so, unless he made it before he went to bed.”
“No. I was down here reading in the library. I would have heard him.” I finished off the cake, got myself a second piece, and made quick work of it. After I finished the last crumb, I sighed.
The sound must have been louder than I thought because Beatrice turned around. “Are you all right?”
“I’m just bored. I couldn’t bring much with me, and I miss home.”
She waved off my protests. “We want you to be comfortable. Let us know if there’s anything we can get for you.”
“We?”
“Mr. Marchesi wants that too.”
Did he? Or did he just want me gone? I looked at the beautiful lemon cake. Maybe he cared a little how I felt, but he sure was giving mixed signals on that—and other things.
My mind was still reeling from the fact that Dom baked an apology cake for me. I wanted to thank him, but he hadn’t showed up in the kitchen. I assumed he was still resting after yet another sleepless night.
Unsure what to do, I wandered down the hall toward the sunroom. Maybe I’d peruse the books some more. Maybe I’d just sit and think about Dom and ponder what it would be like if he decided he was interested in me after all.
That should probably be done in my bedroom.
Then sound of talking startled me. I took a few steps back before I realized the voices were coming from Dom’s office. Was he on the phone? I moved closer, then I heard another voice and realized there was someone else in the office.
Who was it? What were they talking to Dom about? Considering what Beatrice had told me about the family, I knew better than to eavesdrop. I should turn around and go upstairs, but once again, my curiosity got the better of me.
I moved as quietly as I could until I was right by the door. I didn’t want anyone to see me, but I wanted—needed—to know what they were saying.
“I think we should eliminate him,” a voice said.
“I agree.” That was Dom. Oh my God, were they talking about me?