Kisses Like Rain (Corsican Crime Lord #4) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
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She winks. “I always wanted to say that.” Addressing Angelo, she continues, “The room is ready. I prepared a special meal to celebrate.” She throws a conspiratorial glance at the kids. “With chocolate cake for dessert.”

A chorus of excited cries follows. Johan doesn’t join in, but he watches with a shy smile and one hand shoved in his pocket. It’s a perfect imitation of Angelo’s stance. Does Angelo realize how much Johan looks up at him? There’s no denying the admiration and eagerness for approval in the boy’s eyes as he looks at his uncle.

The kids run behind us as Angelo carries me up the stairs. Instead of turning toward my old room, he goes into his.

“Is this a permanent or a temporary arrangement?” I ask.

“The room?” He lowers me onto the bed. “This is as permanent as it gets, cara.”

Sophie hops onto the other side of the mattress and hands me a drawing. “Look, Sabella. I made this for you to say welcome home.”

I take the sheet of paper with the drawing of a woman, a man, and four children standing next to a big house. The sky is filled with fluffy blue clouds and red flowers push up from the grass. Welcome home is written in neat capital letters on the top. My chest warms. This is so different to the drawings she used to make of only her and me.

“Thank you,” I say. “This deserves a frame and a special place on the dresser.”

She bounces over and kisses my cheek.

“Careful.” Angelo catches her around the waist. “Sabella has broken ribs, remember?”

Sophie sucks air through her teeth. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I sneeze or laugh, so don’t tell jokes.”

She giggles.

Guillaume brings his hands from behind his back and dangles a macaroni necklace in my face.

“This is so pretty,” I say, taking the necklace. “Is it for me?”

He bobs his head up and down. “Heidi helped me to make it.”

“Can I put it on?”

He nods enthusiastically again.

I pull the elastic over my head. “How do I look?”

He tilts his head. “Very pretty.”

Étienne thrusts a bunch of immortal flowers at me. “This is from me and Johan. He showed me where to pick them.”

“Oh, I love flowers.” I take the bouquet of bright yellow blooms and inhale their scent of honey and fresh hay. “We’ll have to put them in water.”

“Can I get you anything, Sabella?” Johan asks.

“I’m good for now, but thank you.”

“’Cause you just have to say.”

I smile. “I promise I will.”

“Right, everyone.” Angelo ushers them to the door. “Let’s give Sabella time to rest before dinner.”

Sophie hangs back. “Are you staying here for good?”

I look at Angelo.

“Yes,” he says, holding my gaze. “She is.”

“Forever?” Sophie asks.

Angelo ruffles her hair. “Forever and ever.”

“Okay,” she says with a satisfied nod. “I’ll go tell Beatrice and Alison.”

Angelo ushers them outside and closes the door before walking to the side of the bed where he stops to scrutinize me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

He cups my face. The pain that sparks in his eyes reflects in my heart. “It’ll get better.”

Yes, it will. Both of us know that from experience.

I savor the warmth of his palm on my skin for the couple of beats he keeps his hand there before moving it away.

“Is she still projecting herself on the dolls?” I ask.

“Less and less.” He sits down on the edge of the bed. “Sabella, I haven’t told you everything that happened. I couldn’t talk freely at the hospital.”

My stomach clenches. “I saw the fighting in the forest. I’m so sorry, Angelo. How many poor men died?”

“Numbers aren’t important,” he says evasively. “What matters is that we dealt with the men who started that war.”

“Are they dead?”

The light in his dark eyes is cold. “All of them. The kidnappers as well as the men who hurt you.”

I don’t feel remorse for those men. All I experience is a sense of justice. A sense of relief. “The kids look well and happy. They weren’t hurt, were they?” The question has been tormenting me since Angelo called to tell me they were taken.

“They just got a big scare.” He adds with a note of pride, “They were very brave. The boys even attacked me, thinking I was one of the kidnappers.”

“Oh my God. How did you find them?”

“We tracked their trail until late into the night. The kidnappers drove off with the kids in the SUV after dumping my driver.” His black eyes glitter with loathing. “My men found Waldo’s body in a ditch not far from the school.”

“That’s horrible,” I exclaim.

“I’m only grateful the kids didn’t see when those fuckers offed Waldo. The kidnappers pulled bags over their heads.”

The thought of that alone sends a wave of hot anger through me.

“Marziale overrode the cameras in the new house and intercepted our communication.” His jaw bunches. “Did you try to call me when the shooting broke out?”


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