Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“You’re not crazy, just loved.” I pull her into my lap, bury my face into the crook of her neck, and breathe her in.
“Okay, we’re crazy, utterly crazy,” she whispers into my hair, her arms wrapped around me, keeping me close to her.
“The verdict’s still out on that one. What I can tell you is you’re mine and I’m yours. And you’re never getting rid of me.” The ringing doorbell interrupts the moment. “Be right back.” I move with a quickness. While Alexandria ate and drank, the same can’t be said for myself, and it’s catching up to me.
I walk through the house, unlock the deadbolt, swing open the door, and hand over more cash than is probably necessary for a tip. The delivery driver gives me the food, making me realize I may have gone overboard. My hands are laden with dinner, and I’m only able to close the door with my foot and using my elbow to secure the lock.
“Did you order Mama Emilia’s?” Alexandria asks, walking down the hall, fiddling with the buttons of my dress shirt.
“Only the best for my wife.” I set the boxes and drinks on the coffee table then take my seat, and she sits beside me. Thank fuck she’s not a million miles away on the other side of the table.
“You’re definitely a stalker, Dante Lombardi.” She opens boxes and places the one with the white pizza on her lap. “Want a slice?” she asks, pulling one out.
“Nope, that’s yours, Alexandria Lombardi. And I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: I pay attention to what’s mine,” I reply before going after a slice of my own. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, my thigh brushing hers. There’s no tension left between us, no walls or sharp retorts. Just two people who finally stopped fighting the inevitable, or one person, really.
“You’re looking at me like that again,” she murmurs, swallowing hard, setting her crust back in the box, putting it on the coffee table, and pulling her knees to her chest.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like I’m the only one in the room.” I abandon my own food and maneuver her so she’s back in my lap once again.
“That’s because you are, figuratively and literally.” I brush my lips against hers. She lets out a purr, and I deepen the kiss, drawing every last breath out of her, showing and telling her exactly what she means to me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
alexandria
The click of my heels against the polished marble floor of Sterling Capital sounds crisp, authoritative, and completely at odds with the way my coffee is swirling in my stomach. It was dumb to drink caffeine on an empty stomach when I’m about to talk to my boss after walking out in the middle of the workday. With my luck, it won’t be my husband who gets me fired; it will be myself.
I pause in front of the mirrored elevator door of the private elevator, smoothing down the front of my black pencil skirt, double checking that I didn’t spill anything on my cream silk blouse, and lightly touch the chignon secured at the nape of my neck. How I got my wild curls tamed in the bun with one go is beyond me, but I’m going to count my lucky stars.
I look like the same Alexandria Renee Holland, except now I have the last name Lombardi. That is, once I get my butt to the DMV, social security office, and the bank. I haven’t told Dante yet, but I will be hyphenating my last name. I want a piece of him but also want to retain myself.
Nobody walking by me right now would ever guess that less than two hours ago, I was completely naked, thighs spread, panting with desire with my not-so secret billionaire husband. I take a deep, steadying breath, step off the elevator on Vik’s floor, and make my way toward my corner office. The floor-to-ceiling glass walls in the building allow the natural light to shine through.
Vik’s door is open; he beat me to work yet again. I’m slacking big time, and while I don’t have a designated start time, it would be nice to beat my boss here occasionally.
I drop my bag to my desk, noticing the stack of contracts on my desk to go through, but I ignore them. I have something else to take care of first.
“Vik, I am so unbelievably sorry about yesterday,” I blurt out at the entrance to his door. He doesn’t have a chance to look up to see who’s interrupting his morning routine. “Leaving early like that was completely unprofessional on my part. I rushed out without a moment’s notice. I didn’t even finish my files or turn off my computer. I promise you, it will never happen again.
“Yes, it will,” Vik counters smoothly, shaking his head with a light chuckle. “And stop groveling, Alex. It’s not you, it’s your damn husband who should apologize, which I hope he did.” He sets his red pen down on the paper, resting his chin on his hand, and has an amused grin on his face that does not match his sharp eyes or his pristine business suit. “Plus, Romy coming home in a great mood more than made up for it.”