“You make me sound so sweet.”
“You are sweet,” he said. It was one of the reasons he liked her. She wasn’t vicious or violent. There was no spoiled brat within her. She was the complete opposite of everything he was used to.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“I’m forty years old.”
“I’ll be twenty-two on my next birthday,” she said.
“When is your birthday?” He already knew it was in two months, but he had to keep up the persona of only being the kind of guy who ran a bar.
She told him the date, and he smiled. “I’ll have to make sure I prepare something extra special for you.”
“I’d like that. Especially the part where you think we’ll be together in a couple of months,” she said.
“It would seem I’ve got a whole lot of surprises for you.”
****
“Ouch!” Belle rubbed at her leg as she heard Diego wince.
“I can walk you around the apartment.”
“It’s fine. Honestly.” She was determined to get this right. He had finally brought her back to his place after a week of visiting her at her apartment. She wasn’t going to head home until she knew the complete layout by memory. He’d been surprised that she could function in her own place without a guide dog, which she had decided to call up for one when it was ready. She was nervous about having one after so long, especially as thinking back to her previous dog still pained her. Even thinking of his name hurt her. “I can do this. Besides, a little pain never hurt anyone.” She let out a gasp as his arms snaked around her waist.
“A little pain never hurt anyone? I can think of all kinds of fun pains that will have you gasping for more.”
“You’re tempting me.”
“And I can’t bear to see you hurting yourself.”
“It takes me a short time to memorize the place. Please, don’t worry. I got this. I will always be able to handle this.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him. Touching his face, she felt where his lips were, and she kissed him. There had been a couple of occasions she’d kissed his nose, cheek, or top of his lips. He didn’t seem to mind, and when he took control, sinking his fingers into her hair, and kissing her back with a passion, she was never going to mind that.
“I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“I’m not in pain. It’s just a little ouchy.” She kissed him again. “Please, take me to the door.”
He walked her to the door. Pressing her back flat against the surface, she walked the room, counting the steps in her head, until she remembered where the table was. Leaning down, she placed her hand on the hard surface, feeling along the edge. She circled the table several times, making sure she knew where it was. Then she chanced taking a seat. She stepped forward just as Diego let out a warning and something crashed down.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Was it expensive? I can replace it. I promise.”
“It’s just a lamp.”
“But if it’s a lamp you like?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a lamp that can be replaced.”
“I got tired of replacing lamps. It’s why I don’t have any. I’m so sorry.” It had been a long time since she felt angered by her … blindness. She had never considered it a disability before, but now she did, and it pissed her off. “I’m so sorry.”
She jumped a little as Diego wrapped his arms around her. “And I’ve told you to stop worrying about this. You are doing fine. I’m going to have to make some changes. Now, I have two other lamps in here, so I’m going to move you on to the dining room.”
“Just how big is your apartment?”
“I like my space.”
“Space? This is more than space.” She loved it, really. “Describe it to me?”
When he did, it sounded more like a bachelor pad. Black, leather furniture, crisp white walls, all the up-to-date mod-cons, and everything that she could imagine him having, he had.
“It sounds like you.”
“It does? My apartment sounds like me?”
“When we’re together you’re always in a suit. You’re a businessman.”
“I guess I am.”
“What else do you do, besides running the club? Do you do anything else?” she asked. He walked her around the dining room, and she felt six chairs tucked under a table. The space really was incredible. Her father offered to rent her an apartment with more space, but she really wasn’t interested.
She had picked her apartment for herself. Her father helped her as much as she would let him, but the point of moving was for her to be by herself. To learn to adapt on her own.
For the most part, she had succeeded.
“So, what would you like to eat?” he asked, moving them through to the kitchen.