AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I would have run, given the opportunity at the beginning. Now all I want is to keep him here with me, safe, where our love can grow.
In the car, I lean my head on his shoulder and he caresses my arm, his touch grounding me, his ministrations a necessity I don’t want to live without. Sand and sea stretch on the right, small white villages popping up along the side of the road.
Three weeks like this, our well-earned paradise after everything we went through. I only want to make war in bed. I chuckle and his eyes warm when he finds mine, happy that I am happy. There are no other words to express it.
He caresses my cheek, this gesture the most intimate yet, and I place my hand on his.
My phone rings interrupting the moment. “We just landed and it’s beautiful.”
Cato takes my phone and I shoot him a glare as he says to Aurora, “No phone calls for the next three weeks.”
He ends the call and turns it off, a smirk on his face.
“Hey!”
“Just you and me, wife.”
I thought I would hate him calling me wife, but I love it, coming a close second tocara. I wrap my hands around his arm. “Possessive much?”
“You should know the answer by now.”
Warmth blankets my chest.
“The same goes for you.”
“Cara mia, the world could end and I wouldn’t find out until afterward.”
I giggle, and the driver stops in front of a stone white villa residing on a hill. I stumble out of the car and rush toward the edge.
“Watch out.”
He wraps his hands around my belly, resting his chin on my shoulder, and we savor this moment of contentment.
The sun glistens on the sea, well-fed cats lazily roam around and olive trees pepper the property.
We step inside, where the big window offers a spectacular view of the infinite sky and turquoise sea. A pool begins on the inside and continues to the outside.
“Can we stay here, like forever?”
It’s so beautiful, my heart squeezes in my chest, and tears gather in my eyes.
“Cara. . .”
If I become any more effusive, I will throw up.
He lifts my chin. “I love you,cara mia.”
Three words spread through me only to imprint on my chest, an indelible stamp.
I cup his face and confess, “I never thought I’d have this, even wanted this, and now . . .”
“Believe me, if someone tries to take away what you want, I will rain hell down on them.”
I giggle, my husband is atypical—an understatement—but I don’t care. Love does that—blinds, idealizes, romanticizes—and I don’t want to be awakened. This kind of reality is way better.
The driver brings out our luggage, and a woman and a man approach and introduce themselves as the housekeepers, offering to tend to our every need.
“We’re fine for now.”
