I smile. “I’ve always been used to living in a big house. A smaller place doesn’t feel as comfortable to me. This house was the first thing I bought when I made…” I stop, noticing the fascination that brightens her face. I hate talking about money. It makes me sound like a pompous prick.
“Made what, your first million?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Something like that.” This property is worth over seven million now. I’ve owned it for five years. I bought it for three million. The following year, I used the rest of the money made from my investments to buy a house in Italy, same size as this.
“Yet you don’t act like the standard rich person.” She presses her lips together and looks uncomfortable.
Discomfort was the very thing I wanted to avoid. I don’t want talk of money to make her feel like that, because I know she needs it.
“I like to live my life a certain way. Free. I hate people asking me why I work so hard when I have so much. There are some things money can’t buy. Some things have to be earned to feel real.” That was how I felt about teaching.
“I get it.” Her lips arch into a smile, but then the smile waivers. “My …dad used to say similar things.”
My interest piques. This is the first time she’s mentioned a parent. And she said was—past tense.
“Did he?”
“Yeah, he always used to say when you work hard for something and you achieve it, nothing comes close to that feeling of accomplishment you get.”
“Your father is a very wise man.” I run my finger over her cheek when sadness fills her beautiful eyes.
“Thank you. He… um… died. He was killed. He was a cop and he got caught in a cross fire in a gang war.”
I stare back at her, feeling her pain as I study her features. “I’m so sorry Paige.”
“It’s okay. It was difficult. Really difficult for years, still is. It’s like I’m still that kid waiting for him to come home. I learned to accept it.” She sighs.
“That’s the first you’ve spoken about him to me.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I tend not to. My mother was devastated when he died, and every time anyone mentioned him it would make things worse, so I just got used to not talking about it.”
I kiss the bridge of her nose. “You okay baby?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Thank you for telling me about him.” It’s something more I know about her.
“That’s okay.”
I lean forward and kiss her. “I want you back here tonight. Just come after your last class. Pack a bag and stay with me for a few days.”
More risk.The words are just falling from my lips, speaking from my heart. She stares back at me with those bright green eyes, and I look at her wanting more of her like I always do. This is the start of our third week together. The end of next week marks a month. I’m giving myself until the end of our six weeks to talk to her about whatever we decide to do next.
My career is still a swirl in my head, but there’s one thing I’m sure of, and it’s her. I want her.
“You want me to stay?”
“Yeah, unless you want me to come to your place? I don’t know if Megan would be able to stand the amount of sex we have.”
She starts to laugh, and it’s the best sound ever. I pick up a lock of her hair and allow the ends to curl about my thumb.
“I’ll stay with you.” She touches my face and runs her fingers over my beard while I play with her hair. “James…”
“Yes, Bellissima.”
“This is nice.” Her gaze clings to mine.
“Yes… it is.”