Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“No, I want to stay with you.”
And it wasn’t because I was trying to win his heart. Right now, the entire world grated on my brain. It was all too much. But when I was with Pierce, it was like I could function a little more. I could tolerate the world a smidge better.
“Okay. Not a problem.”
Pierce ushered me inside and up the winding stairs to his enormous bedroom. He must have texted his staff ahead of leaving my place, because the room was already dimly lit, with a fire flickering in the grate and the rain music playing in the background. A set of soft pajamas sat folded at the end of the bed.
“Would you like to take a shower? Afterward, you can eat or maybe take a nap.”
A shower did sound heavenly. “I need to get to work,” I mumbled. My arms shifted around my chest, and the papers I was holding crinkled, demanding that I write something worthy of the reputation I’d cultivated for so many years.
“Your brain doesn’t operate without proper food and sleep. After you’ve done both, I’ll let you have your violin back.”
I glared at him over my shoulder, but deep down, I knew he was right. There was no fight left in me. I opened the coat and handed him the sheet music I’d brought.
“You want to join me?” I asked, though I knew that there was nothing enticing about me at that moment.
A tiny smirk lifted one corner of his mouth, and I swore I could see a hint of relief in his eyes. “Maybe next time. Go shower.”
The shower was as divine as I knew it would be. The hot water chased away all manner of aches and pains. I might have also spent extra time sniffing all the bottles of soap, shampoo, and conditioner Pierce used. It was a bonus. Pierce had grabbed none of my toiletries, so I got to use his. I smelled like him, even though the scent rising off his warm skin was so much better than when it was on me.
After the shower, I pulled on the pajamas and simply collapsed in his bed. Food would have been nice, but my eyes burned and my body couldn’t take another second of being upright and conscious.
Upon waking, I found Pierce seated on the sofa in the corner of the bedroom. He’d tossed his suit jacket and tie onto the back of a chair. His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, and he had a stack of documents in front of him that he was reading through. Strands of hair hung over his forehead as though he’d been running his fingers through it, and I couldn’t remember a time when he’d looked more handsome to me.
“What time is it? How long have I been out?”
Pierce’s head popped up, and he smiled. “It’s after eight. You slept for about five hours.”
“Fuck,” I moaned, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm. “Sorry.”
“Would you like something to eat?”
Before I could even answer, my stomach let out a god-awful growl that filled the room. “So, apparently yes,” I said, not even trying to play it off.
Pierce let out a chuckle and rose. “Come on. I’m still breaking in a new cook, and she’s a bit of an overachiever. You’re my first real guest, and I think she’s looking to show off.”
“Really?” I tossed the blankets aside and climbed out of bed. I hesitated a moment, wondering if I should find my own clothes prior to wandering around Pierce’s house in his pajamas. How many staff members did he even have? Did he want them seeing me in his clothes?
Pierce walked to my side and held out a pair of socks. “Yeah, she’s sweet and very talented. She’s been part of my staff for about a month now. When she found out I had a guest who hadn’t been feeling well recently, she began working on dishes that will replenish your immune system and boost your energy.” Pierce lowered his voice and leaned in to add, “She’s a stickler for vegetables. I’ve never eaten so many in my life.”
I let out a cautious laugh as I stared at him. Was he actually being playful with me? Fuck, I must have scared the shit out of him if he was being this nice.
After I put the thick white socks on my cold feet, I followed him to a cozy breakfast nook with a round table. As soon as we sat down, his housekeeper brought out bowls of steaming, rich-smelling soup. I’d never been a big fan of soup, but the aroma was so tantalizing. It was even better that the soup was accompanied by fresh, crusty bread that tasted as if a French boulangerie had just delivered it.
I moaned softly as I dug into the food. “Your chef is French, isn’t she? Tell me she’s French. No one cooks like the French.”