Chapter 7
7
VIVIENNE
I ndulging in a second cappuccino while chatting with Carmen was the perfect way to relax after finishing my breakfast. I’d only been in Rafa’s house for less than twelve hours, but I was more relaxed than I had been in two years. If I was brutally honest with myself, I also felt more at home here than I did in the house where I grew up. And more comfortable with Carmen than I was with my own parents.
They’d been different when I was a child—more emotionally available, though no one would ever describe them as warm and loving. However, as I got older, their attention turned to molding me into their vision of the perfect daughter. They saw the opportunity to use me as a tool to bring them more connections and respectability.
They’d never even bothered to ask about how Chet treated me. They chose to live in an oblivious bubble, assuming that once his ring was on my finger, my life was some kind of fairy tale. And they made it quite clear that I was expected to do whatever it took to keep him happy, like the good little trophy wife they’d raised me to be.
And even though I’d lost enough weight for my doctor to express concern, my mom and dad had never tried to tempt me into eating more. It had become increasingly clear that they were more concerned with their status in society than with my opinions or well-being. I’d hoped that maybe I was wrong, that if I finally worked up the nerve to tell them what Chet was really like, they would take my side. But a voice in my head kept warning me that I was only setting myself up for disappointment.
Rafa had shown me more care in the short time we’d spent together than my parents had over the past two years. Which made it all too easy to picture myself staying here forever, even though I knew that was just wishful thinking. I didn’t take Rafa’s comment seriously, though, since he didn’t even know me. I chalked it up to the white knight in protective mode.
Shaking my head to dislodge the fantasy of belonging to Rafa from my brain, I flashed a soft smile at Carmen. “Thank you so much for the delicious breakfast.”
“It was my pleasure to cook for you, bellissima .” She dusted her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “I wish I could stay with you longer, but now I must go run some errands.”
I stood, and she gave me a hug before leaving through a different door than we’d used when she brought me to the kitchen. Since I didn’t know where it led, I headed toward the more familiar one. I was barely through the doorway when a big, scary guy who had been with Rafa last night stepped in front of me. He set his hand on my shoulder, and I instinctively shrank back from him.
Before I could say anything, another man joined us and shot a warning look at him. “If you want to continue breathing, Domenico, you won’t touch the boss’s woman again.”
Domenico immediately dropped his arm but smirked at the other man. “You fucking wish you’d get rid of me so easily, Dario.”
The other man—who I now knew was Dario—scoffed. “Why would I want you gone, compare ,” he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “With you around for comparison, women think I’m practically a god.”
Domenico shook his head and made a muffled sound that made me think he might have been smothering a laugh. Which had me thoroughly confused.
Then he winked at me before stalking away.
Dario sighed. “Fucking cazzone clearly has a death wish.”
I let out a shaky laugh before mumbling, “I appreciate the help, but I just met Rafa last night. He brought me here because he rescued me from a bad situation. I’m not his woman.” No matter how much I secretly wished that I was.
Dario just rolled his eyes and grumbled, “ Magari.”
I frowned, wondering why he’d responded with “if only” in Italian. Was I misunderstanding? Or was there a reason he didn’t want me to be with Rafa? Not that it mattered because he was totally out of my league. Still…it was an odd thing to say.
Before I got us the courage to ask him about it, he swept his arm toward the door. “Follow me.”
I wished I had a better innate sense of direction because this house was like a maze. He led me past a bunch of rooms before ushering me into a cozy living area. The space exuded comfort and sophistication, blending warmth with luxury. Dark wood paneling lined the walls, paired with upholstery and drapery in neutral tones. Overstuffed armchairs and a sectional were arranged around a stone fireplace that crackled with a fire, casting a soft glow across the room.
I was too entranced by the inviting atmosphere of the den to protest when Dario muttered, “Stay put.”
I crossed over to the fireplace, intending to sit in one of the comfy chairs, but I was distracted by the photos lining the mantel. The only professional images seemed to be ones from weddings. The rest were candid shots, capturing what appeared to be Rafa’s rather large family in a myriad of happy moments. They were in sharp contrast to the few stiff, staged photos my mom had in our house. Then again, the entire feel of Rafa’s home was the complete opposite since it was warm and inviting, while my mom had gone with the cold museum vibe when decorating. So had Chet’s.
“Sorry I was gone longer than I expected.”
Rafa’s deep voice interrupted my thoughts, and I whirled around, my cheeks filling with heat at being caught snooping. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind since he crossed the room to point at the girl whose shoulder his arm was around in the photo I was closest to. “That’s Gabbi.”
“The sister who loaned me the pajamas last night?” I asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Finally, her packed closet was put to good use.”
“Speaking of closets…” I drawled.
“You found the clothes.” His gaze dropped to the jeans and sweater I was wearing, heat flaring in his dark eyes that made me wonder if he was trying to guess which bra and panty were beneath them. “I forgot to tell you earlier that they look good on you.”
I twirled a lock of my hair around my finger, feeling shy. “It wouldn’t have been easy to miss them, considering how many options there were to choose from. You probably went a little overboard.”
“You look too gorgeous this morning for that to be possible.”
My blush deepened at the compliment. “Thank you.”
I lost track of the point I wanted to make about the clothes and how it was a shame that I wouldn’t be able to wear more of them when he extended his arm and asked, “Ready for a quick tour?”
I was too curious about his home to pass up the opportunity to explore it more. Crooking my elbow through his, I nodded. “Absolutely.”
I had completely lost my bearings more often than I could count by the time he wrapped up the tour in a hallway that wasn’t far from the kitchen. Which I only knew because we’d just walked through it to get here.
“And this leads to the staff accommodations. We like to give them their privacy, so it’s also off-limits,” he explained.
At the start of the tour, Rafa had told me that I could wander wherever I wanted except for a few places he’d point out to me. Other than where the staff lived, he’d only pointed out the basement—which was undergoing some construction after being flooded—and the woods behind the pool area that I’d gawked at from the back patio. With its white marble paved deck and private cabanas with billowing sheer curtains, the space looked as though it belonged at an exclusive resort in the French Riviera instead of a small town in Georgia. Only the forest lacked the olive trees I’d seen in France and was denser…which was why Rafa warned me away from it, so I didn’t get lost out there.
He’s also taken me out to the stables and promised that we’d go riding eventually. On our way back, he pointed out his mother’s house and the building where the landscape workers and farm hands ate their meals.
“Carmen wasn’t joking about how easy it is to get lost around here.” I shook my head with a laugh. “Have you had maps printed and laminated for your visitors?”
“Not yet, but I’ll take it under advisement,” he teased, his lips curving into a slight smirk.
“And maybe some signs for the rooms that are off-limits,” I suggested.
“That too.”
I got turned around again as he led me back to the den and muttered, “As long as Carmen is running errands, you should tell her to buy that laminator.”
He shook his head with a chuckle and his lips curved into a sly smile. “Or perhaps I only need to show you how to get to this room.”
He walked over to a door on the far side of the room, opening it and gesturing for me to walk inside. My eyes widened as I took in the dark wood shelves on all four walls, lined with more books than I could read in this lifetime.
“Wow,” I breathed. “You definitely don’t need to worry about those maps. I’ll just stay here forever.”
“I saved the library for last because I thought it might be your favorite.”
“You were absolutely right.” I wandered over to the nearest bookcase and trailed my fingers over the spines that were at eye level. “Ooh, there’s a romance section.”
Rafa came up behind me, the heat from his body practically scorching my back with how close he was. “My mother insisted on it.”
I twisted around to smile up at him, my heart racing at his nearness. “Do you think she’d mind if I borrow something to read?”
“Not at all,” he assured me with a wry grin that just about made my lacy panties spontaneously combust. “Just be prepared for her to pepper you with questions about which part you liked best.”
I selected a book already on my to-be-read list and hugged it against my chest. “That’s an easy one. The first kiss always gets me in the feels.”
“Then let’s pretend this one is our first,” he suggested before turning me fully so that he could dip his head and claim my mouth.
His kiss left me breathless, just like the other two he’d given me in the kitchen. Clutching his shoulders, I let out a disappointed sigh when one of his men burst our bubble of privacy by rapping his knuckles against the doorframe and murmuring, “Sorry, boss.”
“What is it?” Rafa asked.
The guy’s gaze briefly darted toward me before he answered, “You have a phone call.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if it was about me, but I didn’t get the chance to ask before Rafa stroked his hand down my back, muttered, “Be right back,” and stalked out of the room.
I decided to take a figurative page out of Scarlett O'Hara’s book—which was on one of the shelves behind me—and worry about my problems later since Rafa didn’t seem to be in a rush to kick me out of his house.