As she expected, he drove with flair and expertise. In just an hour since they left the airport, they are now traversing the long road surrounded by towering trees at the side of the road. Soon after, at the end of a quiet road running parallel to the beach. Christian entered the vehicle through the ornate wrought-iron gates, which opened with just a touch of the remote control.
Lara realizes that Rocco is a man of extreme wealth, but she is not ready to face the overwhelming luxury that seems to frighten her. The Mercedes took the uphill long curve of the road, and her eyes caught sight of a massive house.
Standing on a vast terrain, exquisitely landscaped grounds and screened from local traffic by the trees of pines, the place is much more elevated compared to the usual place. Stucco walls, blindingly white, rose in elegant proportions to a tiled roof that was blue like what she always imagined the color of the sky. Large open windows on wide terraces shaded by pergolas draped in flowering vines. There was a large fountain in the middle of the forecourt, and from the seaward side of the land there was a dog barking.
But her chance to marvel at the beauty with her eyes was short-lived as the car gradually stopped outside the elegant and wide door opened by a man in her late fifties or early sixties and exited from there, carrying the wheelchair.
The faithful butler Ruben, she presumed. Rocco often mentions him to her with great fondness. From behind him came a young man, who carried the luggage while Christian and the butler lifted Rocco from the car to the wheelchair. When they finished, his face was pale and the lines around his mouth were deeper compared to its normal appearance.
Even Christian looks worried. "What can you do for him?" he muttered, he blocked Lara at the entrance as Ruben pushed the wheelchair into the spacious marble floor house.
"Give him a painkiller and let him rest," she said. "The long trip has been very difficult for him."
"I don't think he's fit to travel yet."
“Not yet, especially with his age and severe osteoporosis condition, he really should have stayed in the hospital for another week, but he insisted on coming home, and once your father has decided, you can’t do it anymore, it can’t be changed.”
"Tell me something I don't already know." He frowned as Christian took off his jacket. "Do I have to call his doctor?"
“In the morning, yes. He’ll need more medication than what I was able to bring with us. But I can watch him all night.” Struggling to preserve a professional front despite the fact that Christian stood close enough for the warmth of his body to reach out and touch hers, she passed in front of him and took her traveling bag from the luggage that set down at the front door. "If you take me to his room, I'll make sure I'll watch over him."
He stepped away and led her to the back of the villa, to a large, sun-filled apartment on the main floor. It has a sitting room and bedroom, both with French doors that open onto a low-walled patio, it overlooks the gardens and sea.
While still sitting in the wheelchair perched near the window of the sitting room, Rocco leaned over and gazed at the beautiful view in front of him.
"He had this part of the house converted into his private suite a few years ago since it became difficult for him to climb the stairs," Christian said in a low voice.
As she looked around the room, Lara asked, "And where is the hospital bed?"
“I bought it yesterday. I'm sure he'll get mad at me for removing the bed he's used to using, but this one seemed more practical, at least for now.”
“You did the right thing. He will be more comfortable here, even if he won’t be spending much time there except at night.”
"Why not?"
"The more often he moves, the faster he can walk again, although…"
Picking up on the reservation in her voice, Christian pounced on it. “Although what? You said earlier that you hoped he would recover. Have you changed your mind now?”
“No, but…” She hesitated again, bound by patient confidentiality, but she knew that as a child, Christian should know this information, especially if because of her secrecy it would have a detrimental effect on Rocco's condition. “How much do you know about your father’s general health?”
“Only what is chosen he told me, which isn’t very much.”
She had already guessed that this was what he was going to say. ‘There’s no need to contact my son,’ Rocco had decreed, when the hospital had insisted on listing his next of kin. ‘He minds his business, and I mind mine.’
Christian shot her an annoying look. “What is the thing that you can't tell Lara? Is he going to die?”
"Aren't we all, we just don't know when?"
“Don’t play mind games with me. I asked you directly and I also want a direct answer.”
“Okay. His age is against him. Even if he doesn’t admit it, he’s already too weak. He will not be able to endure the hardship to return to the past.”
"I already know that thing, so what else are you holding back?"
Rocco saves her from avoiding answering. “What the devil are the pair of you whispering about?” he asked irritably.
Casting Christian an apologetic glance, she said, “Your son is just explaining that you might not like the new bed he bought for you. He's worried you'll think he's interfering.”
“He was. I broke my hip, not my brain. I will decide what I want and what I don't want.”
"Not as long as I'm in charge."
“Don’t boss me around, girl. I won’t put up with it.”
“Yes, you will,” she said equably. "That's why you hired me."
"It's easy for me to take you off and take you on a plane back to Canada as early as tomorrow."
She knew it wouldn't make the threat come true, she secretly smiled. He is just tired and in pain, tomorrow morning he will be able to think better. “All right, Mr. Imperial,” she replied wisely, and pushed the wheelchair into the bedroom. "But for now, let me do my job first."
Chris took the opportunity to leave the place, when she saw him leaving, she wanted to slap herself with frustration, despite her efforts she failed to prevent that. However, the faithful Ruben remained in the room, concerned and willing to help in any way. When Rocco finished eating and fell asleep comfortably, she went out to go to the room reserved for her.Aida, the servant, showed Lara the room reserved for her upstairs. Decorated in subtle shades of ivory and slate-blue, she remembered her own bedroom in the house, even though the furnishings here were far more than anything she could afford. Marble floors, a Savonnerie rug and fine antiques polished to a soft gleam exemplified wealth, good taste and comfort.There is also a lady’s writing desk between the double French doors to the balcony. There was a fainting couch, its brocade upholstery worn to satin softness, its once-vibrant colors faded by time. A glass-shaded lamp spilled mellow light, and a vase o
"Then that's a pity!" he answered, without the slightest trace of remorse. “But try to see where I'm coming from. My father came with a very beautiful woman whom he did not fully know but then he was able to entrust his whole life. Not only that, he came from a very distant place, in another country and my father agreed to watch over and take care of him until he was completely healed. In fact, there are enough nurses qualified to take care of him in this country. So, tell me, if we reverse our situation, won't you at least doubt it?”"No." she replied warmly. “Before I jump to unworthy conclusions or before I judge her professionalism. I will ask this stranger to show me her profile and if I am not satisfied with the information she provided, I will call her previous employers to verify if the documents she presented are true.”“Well, there is no need for many explanations. Your point is well taken and that being the case, I am ready to p
She was lying. The evidence was present in her confused look, in her racing pulse, very easily and unobtrusively detected when he took her wrist. And he intended to find out why, because despite his thoughts he would remain unaffected by whatever he discovered when he went to the airport, the sight of the old man, so brittle and somehow diminished, he seemed to be struck by a hammer in his heart. They only spent a little time together, for a long time nothing else was done but to argue and nothing was agreed upon. But Rocco was still his father, and Chris would be damned before he’d let someone take him to the cleaners.Oh, she was full of reasonable anger for saying that she was not a selfless angel of mercy as she portrays as she is. After all, he didn't expect it. But he also saw how she was able to bring herself closer to Rocco; how successful she was in taking its affection. His father was not the demonstrative type of man, and at least not as far as Chris remember
She put down the bread she was holding and stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"“By what standards do you judge a prospective husband?”She reached for her glass and drank as she pondered what to answer to his question. "He must be a decent and respectable man," she finally declared."Tall, dark and handsome, too?""Not necessarily." She shrugged again, causing her clothes to lift slightly and expose the beautiful curve of her breasts.He wished he hadn’t seen that fascinating. "Rich and successful, is that so?"“At least, he must earn enough to support us. When we have children, I want to be at home to take care of them.”"If you had to choose just one quality of your ideal man, what would it be?""The one who knows how to love," she said dreamily, her brown eyes widened, and a sharp smile flashed on her lips. While outside, a strong wind was blowing on the pine trees. "I want love more than anythi
She probably weighed no more than fifty-four kilograms in his eighty-five, but what was lacking in size, was more than recoverable in spirit. He had no doubt that she was given knowledge of the anatomy of the man, beyond the ability to cause serious bodily injury. Which should hinder him. Instead the thought of repelling her left him so suddenly and painfully aroused that, for the first time, he questioned the wisdom of his plan of attack. She should have been at his mercy, not in any other way, but for now, she remained utterly indifferent to his charms. On the other hand, he is not with her.Aida just came back to serve chicken breast and ziti stuffed with spinach, a welcome diversion, allowing him to fight his bad submission hormones and redirect his energy to more productive channels. "Why did you allow my father to force you into allowing him to travel, when he clearly didn't fit on it?" he asked casually, once they were alone again.&l
Except for setting aside an hour a day to polish your halo! Struggling to hide his skepticism, Chris said, "All the work and no play seems unfair. We'll see what we can do to change that."A sudden influx of wind moved through the French doors, making her jump. "The thing being here is enough change. If the weather had cleared up, I'm sure Rocco wouldn't have upset me with the extraordinary day off to see the sights."“Count on both,” he said, acknowledging the opportunity when it showed up. "And I’m dedicating myself to act as tour guide.""That’s nice of you, Chris."No, no, he might have told her. Because whatever her motives, his were anything but pure. And because he meant it when he said he wasn’t a good person.They passed the leftover food in idle conversation, only interrupted by repeated bursts of rain on the windows, but before serving the coffee, she was about to run out of thing
Lara had been kissed before, many times, but always. with some part of her brain able to rate the experience objectively: too slobbery, too bland, too aggressive, too many teeth, too much heavy breathing, not enough tenderness. More often than not, kissing, she'd concluded, was a vastly overrated prelude to romance. Until Christian Imperial came on the scene, that was, and filled her with a single blow.Except "blow" was no more the right word to define his effect on her than "kiss" adequately described his action. What he did with his mouth transcended the ordinary and surpassed the divine. Cool and firm, it yet seared her with its heat. Though undemanding, it somehow stripped her of everything-her independence, her focus, her moral compass, even her sense of survival.Apart from one rash, distinctly forgettable experience, she'd chosen to remain celibate because sex for its own sake held no appeal, and she'd never come close to being in lo
She looked out at the flowers in brilliant bloom, at the peacocks strutting across the lawns, the blue arc of the sky and the stunning turquoise sea. Soon the rainy season would come to Vancouver, it's chilly southeasterly gales stripping the trees of leaves. People would be scurrying about under a forest of umbrellas where, just few weeks before, they'd been lying on the beaches taking in the last of summer's sunshine. "No," she said. "I'm happy to be here.""Good. Then you have no excuse for wanting to leave early."She thought not, either, until the beginning of her second week there, when Chris reappeared as suddenly as he'd left."So, this is where you're hiding," he said, coming upon her as she sat reading in a wicker love seat on the patio. "I've been looking everywhere for you."Though startled, she managed to hang on to her composure enough to meet his glance coolly and reply with commendabl