Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
He brought his mouth to my ear, then tilted his face to kiss the throbbing pulse at my neck, making my breath catch.
“Your heart is beating like crazy,” he whispered.
I shuddered. His breath sent goose bumps down the back of my neck and heat between my legs.
I shoved him away as the attendant came to set our individual tables for dinner. He smiled at me, obviously enjoying my discomfort, and when the hostess left, he leaned in again.
“Have you ever had an orgasm, Sofia? Did you slide your fingers inside your panties and make yourself come while lying in your bed at night, pressing your face into the pillow to muffle your moans of pleasure?”
He licked his lips and picked up his glass, looking at me over the rim.
“Have you ever felt a man’s touch?” He smiled. “The look on your face is telling me no. Don’t tell me I’m right. That you’re a vir—”
“Stop!” I cried out, trying to jump from my seat but caught halfway with the seat belt fastened across my lap.
“I don’t think they want us to get up yet, honey.”
Heads had turned to watch us, watch me. Embarrassed, I sat back down. “I hate you, Raphael Amado.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t care, Sofia Guardia. That’s the beauty of this.”
Chapter Five
Sofia
By the time we landed in Florence, we’d been traveling for over thirteen hours. The drive to the Amado property took another hour and fifteen minutes. Located outside of Florence near a town called San Gimignano, the house—or rather estate—came into view only a few minutes after we’d driven off the country road and through a large entrance, where tall iron gates stood open and stone walls separated the property from the road.
We sat in the back of a dark sedan with tinted windows. As the driver took us through, I looked back at the dragons on top of the two pillars. Each was posed differently, one perched on its haunches, the other ready to take flight with its wings wide. Both had eyes that seemed to follow me.
I shuddered and glanced at Raphael, who had a strange look on his face as he surveyed the land, the swelling hills, the green grass, the vast seeming acres of land.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He smiled.
That was maybe the first authentic smile I’d seen from him.
“It’s called Villa Bellini. It’s been in the Bellini family—my mother’s family—for centuries. It now belongs to me.”
“Not your brothers too?”
He shook his head. “Always goes in whole to the firstborn.”
“Wow. That’s crazy. What about your brothers? And you’re a twin, how does that work?”
“Damon is my twin, but he was born three minutes after me, which makes me firstborn.”
“Tell me about them. Damon and Zachariah, right?”
“Damon lives nearby. You’ll meet him soon. I’m sure he’s dying to meet my future bride,” he said sarcastically. “Zachariah joined the military when he turned eighteen. Can’t blame him. I don’t know where he is. Some mission somewhere, I suppose.”
“You don’t know? That doesn’t worry you?” He didn’t answer my question, seeming to drift into memory instead.
“We were born in Philadelphia—our parents wanted to be sure we had American citizenship—but spent most of our time here. With the winery in full production, it was easier.”
“Your English is fluent and you have no accent.”
“We attended international schools.”
“Ah. The name Amado is Portuguese?”
“My father is, or was, American-born of Portuguese descent.”
“I looked it up. It means one who loves God,” I said.
His face hardened and he turned to me, his voice tight when he spoke.
“I don’t believe in God, Sofia. No God would allow what happened to my family to happen.” He glanced out the window. “Which you’ll see the irony in when you meet Damon.”
“Raphael is the name of an archangel. That’s an irony, isn’t it, considering?”
“I guess your God is having a good laugh at my expense.”
A few moments later, the house came into view. I didn’t want to be affected, but before I could stop myself, I made a sound of utter awe.
“It needs repairs,” Raphael said. “My brother had part of the house closed off. Money was…tight while I was in prison.”
“We flew first class,” I reminded. He went on, ignoring my comment.
“Seventeen bedrooms altogether, only six of which are useable at the moment, an interior courtyard, a large swimming pool, updated kitchen, etcetera.”
“Etcetera? You take this for granted?”
He turned to me. “I take nothing for granted.”
“The Guardia home here, from what I know because I’ve never been there, is more of a factory used for harvesting and production. This is beautiful. Elegant. Is that, or was it, the vineyard?” I asked as the car came to a stop outside a building that stood beside a vast field of what looked to be the charred remains of a vineyard.
“Yes.” He looked straight at me. “The one my father burned down. To collect the insurance money. You wanted to know what your grandfather had to do with what happened to me. This is it. My father owed your grandfather money. He gave my father an ultimatum, life or death, and my father set the property on fire to repay him to save his worthless life. It killed my mother.”