I still couldn’t believe it as I looked at the cream walls around me. The morning sun was shining through the curtains. I walked over to the window and the view was honestly one of the most incredible things I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. I let my mind wander back to the events of the past week.
*FLASHBACK*
“What?” I barely got out.
“You are Aretha Washington, correct?” he asked. I could only manage to nod. I was well aware of the fact that his arms were still around me.
I was also well aware of the fact that I liked that.
“Can we talk inside? This water is running into my underwear now,” he smirked. I couldn’t help but giggle.
“Sorry! Come in,” I said as I freed myself from his grasp to let him in. Once he was in, I closed the door behind him.
“Would you like to change out of your wet clothes?” I asked him.
“That’s actually a good idea, but my bags are in the car outside. Can I borrow an umbrella?” he asked.
I nodded and pointed to the umbrella behind him. He thanked me, took it and headed out. It was only then I noticed the two black cars outside. One was a Rolls Royce, while one was a familiar SUV, which confirmed my suspicion about my guest.
Raphael Maestri was here and he’d just asked me to marry him!
As he went to the trunk of the Rolls Royce, I used the time to slap myself. I must’ve looked insane, but I was checking to see if I was dreaming or not. I was secretly hyperventilating as I watched him walk back towards me. I moved aside and let him in.
“Well, my grandmother’s home isn’t as lavish as one of your hotels, so you’ll have to settle for a guest bedroom,” I smiled. His breathing hitched a little and his eyes darkened. His wet hair was stuck to his forehead and he was actually dripping wet.
“It’s no problem,” he said, his voice sounding husky. I was hypnotized but I managed to snap out of it.
“Follow me,” I said with bated breath.
The whole house suddenly felt like it was a thousand degrees hotter. He followed me into the guest bedroom and I left him there. I was headed back to the lounge before I remembered that I hadn’t even offered him a towel. I chastised myself and grabbed one before heading back to the bedroom.
When I opened the door, my words caught in my throat. He was standing shirtless with his suit pants riding low from the lack of belt and loosened button, revealing his Calvin Klein waistband. Some of the water was dripping down his abdomen, and I forgot how to function.
“If you don’t stop staring at me like that, we’re going to have a serious problem,” he said lowly, the huskiness from earlier even a baritone lower. The Italian accent only wrapped itself around my already incoherent brain.
YOU ARE READING
The Maestri Amour (Wattys 2015) - ON HIATUS
General Fiction"Child, he doesn't know anything about his own life. You think he's a mystery to you and the world? Little do you know that he's a mystery to himself. He doesn't know of the lies that surround him. He has dark secrets Rita, dark secrets that practic...
