Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
When I finally leave the bathroom, I see my bag on the bed and Franco standing near his dresser already dressed in a pair of joggers and a tee shirt. My mouth drops because he’s so hot. He’s got those slutty gray joggers that leave nothing to the imagination.
“Something wrong?”
“No. You look hot.” I lick my lips with emphasis, causing a low growl to emanate from him.
“Back at you,” he says, raking his eyes over my towel-covered body.
“I need to get my clothes.”
“May I sit and watch?”
“You can as long as you don’t touch.”
“Fine,” he pouts, looking adorably sexy. For a man of his size, it comes off as undeniably appealing. I do my best to ignore the lustful way he watches me as I let the towel fall.
“Fuck. Did you have to torment me like that?”
“Sorry. I could have taken the longer way.”
“You’ve got a point, but I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of seeing you naked.”
“Back at you,” I say, winking at him as I slip my panties on. I put on a cute Christmas tee and yoga pants that have a Christmas theme to them.
“Come on before I dirty you all up again.” He takes my hand and hustles me out of the room. Once we’re downstairs, I notice that he’s limping a little.
“Is your leg okay?”
“It’s a little stiff. When I do a lot, the next day it’s a bit wonky.”
I nod, but don’t say a word. We gather around the large tree that I hadn’t seen up close last night. It’s large and beautiful.
“Merry Christmas,” Rita says, rolling in a coffee cart.
“Merry Christmas,” we say simultaneously.
“I’m so glad Francois left direct instructions on how to make coffee.” I hesitate to grab a cup. With a smile, she adds, “I’ve already tasted it, and it’s just fabulous.” We each take a cup, and she brings out a box of donuts. I’d have to say that it’s better than her attempt to cook again.
“So how long have you worked for Franco?”
“Goodness, so many years I’ve lost count.” She giggles, and we sit on the sofa while she takes a seat in the large chair. “But Franco hardly ever needs me to do more than dust. Once there are babies, that will be a different story.”
“Lots of babies,” Franco growls, staring at me with a look of pure lust. I turn to Rita, and instead of appearing uncomfortable, she looks happy.
“Maybe at once, since Anabelle and I are twins.”
“Wow, double the beauty. Does your sister have a boyfriend or is she married yet?”
“No. She’s single and not looking for a relationship, or at least so she tells me. Speaking of, I need to get our schedule together to call my parents. We should be getting a call by nine.”
“Should we go in the other room?”
“No. I can walk away, but you should take some medicine for your leg, at least some over-the-counter stuff like I use.”
“I will.”
I get up and walk away, dialing Anabelle’s number. “Hello,” she says with her voice full of sleep.
“Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Isa.” I hear the smile in her voice even though she’s tired.
“So I’m going to call Mom and Dad and let them know that the storm stranded me here, but that we will be getting back together.”
“Should we just do a three-way call?”
“Yes. I’ll get it started.” I click the button and then select Mom’s contact. “Hey, Mom. It’s us girls on the line.”
“Why aren’t we video chatting?”
“Because Isa and I aren’t together right now. We got hit with a heavy snowstorm and Isa was doing a special dinner at a home and the roads were shut down.”
“Oh, no. Are you safe, Isabelle?”
“Yes, Dad. It’s been wonderful to be staying in what can be considered a castle.”
“That’s great, but are your hosts treating you like a guest or a servant?”
“About that, Mom and Dad. I’ve got something to share with you. The owner of the house and I are dating now.”
“Wow, that’s fast.”
“Yay! I’m so happy.”
“Who is he? How old is he?”
“He’s thirty-one now, and he’s Franco Fiore.”
“Your boss?”
“No,” Anabelle snaps.
I continue, wondering why she was so vehement. “Franco is my boss’s brother.”
“Oh. So it wasn’t a dinner for other people, but you two.”
“No, I was supposed to cook for their family, and Franco and I met again.”
“Supposed to cook?”
“Well, Anabelle’s not the only one who couldn’t travel. His family isn’t here either, but since the storm stopped, they should be here tonight along with Anabelle.”
“That’s wonderful. We’d like to meet this man you’re dating,” my mother says. She sounds sugary sweet, but I know she means right now.
“He was in a helicopter crash?” my father asks, having Googled Franco.
“Yes, we met briefly before the crash.”
“And…”
“I was in love with him then.”
“Love? Are we going to be expecting grandbabies soon?”
“I hope so,” Anabelle says.