I hear the roar of a motorbike outside. I jump off the couch and check the security cameras in the kitchen. At the gates is a man dressed in biking leather and straddling a Harley Davidson.
“He’s here.”
If Isabella hears the panic in my voice, she ignores it. “Good. We’ll see you soon.”
But I don’t hear Isabella’s last words.
Of all the bikers she had to send Specs. Then I remember that Isabella told me he volunteered, and my belly does a flip. Whenever I’m around Specs, my shyness goes to 100%. The man makes me forget my own name.
The gate buzzes and my finger hovers over the open button, wondering if I should let him in. But it would be rude to turn him away.
I push the button to open the gate and watch as he glides across the courtyard and to the front door.
2
PAUL
The iron gate slides open silently, revealing the mansion on the other side.
“Well damn,” I mutter to myself as my gaze sweeps over the whitewashed stone buildings that surround the cobblestone courtyard.
Vines grow up the sides of the walls that stretch out on either side of the gate, disappearing into the dusk and the gloom of dark gardens beyond.
I roll my bike over the threshold and cruise across the courtyard. The damn thing’s so big it takes a good half minute to get to the front entrance. There’s a water feature in the middle with a fish standing on its tail spouting water into a round pool.
The entire place has a European feel to it, like I’ve been transported into a casa in Spain. Not that I’ve even been to Spain, but I’ve read books set there.
A second-story balcony provides an overhang where the front door is, and I park my bike next to it and kill the engine.
I slide my helmet off and run my hands over my hair before pressing the doorbell.
I’m expecting a butler or someone in a smart uniform to answer the door, so I’m surprised when it opens and Cassie peers out.
My breath catches at the sight of her wide eyes and round face peering at me.
“Hi…Happy Birthday.” My voice comes out in a nervous stutter, and I clear my throat. “Isabella sent me to pick you up.”
She presses her lips together, still hiding behind the door.
“Are you ready?”
The door opens further, and I get a glimpse of what she’s wearing. Pale pink pajamas with roses on them. The fabric clings to her hips, showing off her curvy figure. The tight pajama top pulls across her chest, and I’m pretty sure she isn’t wearing a bra.
My mouth goes dry, and I pull my gaze away from her chest.
“I need to get changed.” Her voice is soft, like a caress across my heart. “Come in.”
Cassie opens the door, and I follow her into the entryway. It’s as vast as the courtyard and just as sparse. The walls are wider than my entire cabin, and the only furniture is a thin sideboard, with a blue vase and no flowers.
“I brought you this.” I pull a package out of my pocket and hand it to her. It’s plain brown paper wrapped in string, but her eyes light up at the rectangle shape. “For your birthday.”
She takes the package. “Thank you. You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“I know.”
She opens the package, and I watch her eyes as she turns the book over in her hand. The cover is worn at the edges, and some pages are folded over.
She frowns, and then her eyes go wide as she reads the title. “The Art of War. This is the book you were telling me about.”She looks up, and the delight in her eyes lets me know I’ve done the right thing.
