Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Beside that was a larger seating area with off-white tufted couches facing a large framed TV on the wall.
Then, finally, on the far end of that was a game area dominated by a sleek wooden pool table with black felt. One side of the pool table was lined by hightop tables and chairs. The other side had a large, fully stocked bar and a stereo system.
There were rooms off of that space.
But they were slightly cut off from view thanks to a large staircase leading up to the loft area that surrounded the whole apartment.
It seemed as though each end of the house featured bedrooms with one long hallway that overlooked the lower level between them.
“Mrs. Lombardi,” a newly familiar voice said to me, making me turn to see the man who’d come to the bridal suite at the cathedral, who’d led me toward the aisle.
I’d been too distracted to pay him much mind before. But with nothing else that I wanted to think about right then, I took a second to take him in.
Like Renzo, he was tall and fit in his suit with a square jaw and a brooding brow over golden-brown eyes.
“Yes?” I asked, still trying to come to grips with how that sounded.
Lore Lombardi.
It had a nice ring to it, I guess.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked, waving toward the bar where Renzo was downing his second drink.
I tried not to worry that he was drinking because of me. Because he was disappointed in this arrangement, in me as a wife.
I’d only ever really had sips of wine in my life. You could say that being the only girl in a family with five brothers, and a widowed father, I had been incredibly sheltered in my life.
Someone was always keeping an eye on me, making sure I never got into any trouble, never did, well, anything at all.
So having a drink to calm my nerves or after a long, hard day had never been an option for me.
I didn’t think tonight was the night to give that a try.
“I’m okay,” I said, shaking my head.
“I’m Elian,” he introduced himself. “You can ask me for anything you need or want. I’m always around.”
“Thanks,” I said, my voice a small sound. “You can call me Lore, by the way,” I said.
“No, I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re Mrs. Lombardi.”
“Oh,” I said, confused that someone who seemed close to Renzo would be forced to keep up those kinds of formalities. “Okay.”
“Do you want me to show you to your room?” he asked. “Your luggage arrived earlier,” he added.
Right.
Yeah.
I’d forgotten all about that.
Along with my ring and the money for my dress had been a number I could text for and a man who would show up to fetch my things.
Which he’d done yesterday, I’d been up the whole night before, fretting about how much of my old life I could bring into my new one.
I glanced over to see Renzo striding across the apartment, then closing himself in one of the rooms on the other side of the game room.
Well then.
“That would be great, thanks,” I said, getting a nod from him as he moved ahead of me, leading me through the apartment and toward the stairs, waiting for me as I gathered my skirts, then taking up the steps two at a time as I struggled to do each one in my heels.
I wasn’t a woman who dressed up often. Or ever, really. And I never wore heels.
But a girl had to make sacrifices for her wedding day, right? Not that this felt anything like an actual wedding day, though.
No kiss at the altar.
No reception.
Hardly even a glance from my husband.
Outside of the door, my luggage was lined up neatly against the wall, and as soon as Elian pushed open the bedroom door to let me in, he started to grab each of them, moving them inside the door instead.
“Anything else, Mrs. Lombardi?” he asked.
“I… no. Thank you, Elian,” I said, giving him a small, forced smile as he nodded, moved out, and closed the door.
So.
This was Renzo Lombardi’s bedroom.
It smelled like him, was my first thought.
That smoky leather scent with a hint of tonka bean.
It had been pleasant up close at the altar.
But it was almost dizzying in this space.
There was another wall of windows with black casings and exposed brick. But the other walls, which I figured must have been erected sometime after the original brick, were smooth cement.
The floor was a rich hardwood with a distressed gray rug under the bed, so you stepped onto something warm the first thing in the morning.
The bed itself was massive. Bigger, I was sure, than any king-sized one I’d ever seen. Were there bigger types than that? There must be. Because Renzo had one.
It was set a little lower to the ground with a dark gray leather headboard and a bunch of lush gray bedding.