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“So, you wanted to speak with me about your grandfather’s wedding?” Lucy cut into his gaze, feeling the heat rise to places in her body she wished it didn’t.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m still sort of full from the pastries and that delicious fruit tray.”
“Will you be staying for dinner?” he spoke softly.
“I…” would love to. “I can’t. I have so much work in the morning and-”
“Very well. I won’t keep you too long then. I’ll cut to the chase.”
Oh, no. Had she offended him? She just refused to have dinner with one of the hottest, eligible, affluent bachelors in the world. Was she crazy? Foot-in-mouth disorder. Arrgh! Stupid. You should have said hell, yeah! No wonder you are still single.
“You seem to have given my grandfather the impression that the wedding is still forthcoming, Lucy.” Was that a question or a statement? Either way, his rich, deep tone of voice—that silky voice and the way he said her name Lucy in a low timbre captivated her.
“Listen, Antonio. I have no disrespect for you but…” This was not going to be as easy as she thought. A lump as large as a boulder seemed to have lodged in her throat. Damn, why the heck did Antonio have to look so hot? She was burning from the sexy heat of his delicious gaze. Even his name Antonio Romero was seductive.
Antonio Romero. Antonio Romeo. Antonio Romero. Lucy Romero. Stop it!!
That irresistible scent of his sweet cologne tickled her nostrils and lulled her into a dizzying calm state. But it wasn’t just that. It was his aura. There was something about being in this man’s presence. Heck, even looking at his tall, muscular-built frame. His excellent physique and his skin! His skin was almost flawless. He was blessed with good genes and good bone structure. She again noted his high cheekbones and chiseled features. His beautiful large, dark eyes and softly defined lips. Oh, those lips!
Okay, I’ve so got to focus here or that’s it for me. Game over.
Lucy closed her eyes for a moment feeling utterly incompetent. Why was Antonio Romero having this crazy effect on her? This was absolutely insane. She barely knew the guy. But, oh, she wanted to know him better. Much better. Even biblically. Stop it!
“Antonio,” she said almost breathless. “I realize how difficult this may be f-f-for you. We may not fully understand your grandfather’s happiness. But it is his to have…to decide on how he wants to be happy.” Oh, God! Why was she sounding like an incoherent idiot? “He obviously cares for Shelly. I want him to be happy.”
“You want him to be happy?” Antonio echoed. “You don’t know anything about my grandfather, Lucy. Loneliness and love are two completely different animals.”
“Loneliness?” Lucy repeated, incredulously.
“Yes, Lucy. My grandfather always had this fear of dying alone. Since my grandmother passed many years ago, he has been on a rollercoaster of indiscreet relationships and bad marital decisions. All of them ending bitterly in divorce. And all of them ending with my grandfather getting nothing but slapped with exorbitant spousal support. And what has he been left with?”
“A broken heart,” Lucy whispered, her voice trailing off. She swallowed hard. Her heart was pounding in her chest again. She could see raw hurt glittering in Antonio’s dark eyes. She really did not want to be responsible for Toni suffering more heartbreak, but on the other hand, what if this marriage did work out for him? But would young Shelly stick around for Toni until his final days, whenever that would be?
“Love is one heck of a ride, Antonio. It’s never easy. You never know how bumpy or smooth it’s going to be. You never know if you’ll have enough fuel to go the distance or if you’ll crash and burn.” Lucy bit down on her lower lip.
She noticed Antonio’s body language changed ever so slightly. He’d become more rigid. Then his eyes trailed to her lips. Damn! She must stop that awful habit of biting down on her lower lip. What must Antonio think of her? That she was some shy, awkward school girl who was indecisive?
“I like what you just said,” Antonio finally spoke in his deep, throaty voice. “It’s true.”
