‘Caroline! Emily! Hello,’ Alina rushed into their brand new home searching for her sister and niece before Tomas could get to her side of the car. Alina was met by an unfriendly face, displeased at this stranger, barging in and screaming in such an impolite manner.
‘May I help you?’ A woman about Alina’s age, in a house keeper’s suit demanded.
‘Oh ___ hi, I’m Alina. I was calling out to Caroline and Emily.’
‘It is good manners to knock and wait to be invited in,’ the fancy suited house keeper stated in a rasped tone.
‘Are they not here cara?’ Tomas found Alina standing hesitantly in the hallway.
‘Mr. Casiraghi, welcome back,’ the fancy suit gave Tomas an endearing smile.
‘Shay, good day,’ Tomas greeted courteously.
Alina looked at her husband. How was it they already knew each other and she was relegated to visitor status?
‘Ah, you have not yet met, cara,’ Tomas smiled, curving his arm around Alina. ‘Shay, this is my wife Alina. ‘Cara, this is Shay Raymond, the one whose assistance we acquired at very short notice.’
Great even the hired help has a vendetta against me.
Alina looked again at the woman. At least she had the grace to squirm. Her face turned scarlet. She studied her overly trimmed finger nails in embarrassment. Alina did not have a spiteful bone in her body to take the woman to task.
‘Aunt Alina! Toe-muz!’
Alina spun around. Emily came running with her arms wide opened.
It was into Tomas’ arms that she went flying.
‘Emelia, Buongiorno piccola.’
‘Hello Toe-muz,’ she hugged him.’
‘Buongiorno,’ Tomas repeated.
‘Yes, yes bonjee you too. Why were you gone for so long?’
‘Hi Emily.’ Hello, remember me?
‘Aunt Alina,’ she finally acknowledged her aunt, reluctantly leaving Tomas’ arms. ‘I missed you.’
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The Italian Billionaire's LoverGeneral Fiction
She's nothing like the classy, curvaceous, leggy blondes that frequent his bed...yet something about the bedraggled red-headed scrawny woman draws him to her, that he feels compelled to bed her. She thought it a cruel joke when he asks her to dinner...