Page 35 of Dare To Love Me

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Page 35 of Dare To Love Me

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My house wasonly five minutes up the road from Matteo’s. I turned into the single gated entrance that opened to a long curving driveway, leading to where the house sat on top of a hill.

Becka’s eyes fixed on my large red-brick home. It had tall white pillars in the front and shutters around the windows. Ivy grew in various places, sometimes reaching all the way to the roof. The immaculate lawns and hedges added a sense of propriety.

We pulled up to the front walkway instead of going around to the garage. I wanted her to walk through the front door, not hustle her around back like one of my vehicles.

After exiting I moved around to get the door but she was already halfway out of the car. Her eyes were smiling as she took in the oversized, colonial-style brick home. I sighed in relief. I had chosen this style of house for a special reason. It wasn’t as huge or flashy as Matteo’s home, but what it meant to me was worth much more than looks.

Her head darted back and forth across the sun warmed brick, a smile played on her lips. The fact Becka seemed to like it made me happy. I couldn’t remember the last time anything made me feel real happiness.

I ordered James to park the cars and bring Becka’s bag inside. Then I gently laid my hand on her back and led her up the walkway. My heart pounded against my ribs.

Becka was the first woman I ever brought to my home, but not just a woman, my wife. Suddenly the sun’s rays blurred around the edges of my vision. Am I dreaming? I hand’t expected I would ever be walking a girl I had so much appreciation for into the house that I bought in memory of one of the last people I ever loved.

When I opened the door I heard her breath catch. I gave her a minute to take it all in. The house stood over a hundred years old, and even though it had been refurbished a few times, the people had had enough sense not to take away from its original glory.

Gleaming wood still dominated the flooring and most of the accent paneling, along with a beautiful wooden staircase ascending to the second level. Matteo’s house may have screamed money and power but I loved mine because it felt old and cherished. It felt like home to me. A sanctuary.

“Do you like it,” I asked.

She turned to faced me. “I love it.”

My smile was huge and it earned me one just as big. Damn, it was a thing of beauty. She was a thing of beauty.

Then her eyes narrowed, quizzically, as if trying to piece together a puzzle without knowing the picture. I blinked and straighten when I realized the puzzle was me.

Self-preservation snapped to attention. The notion that she was trying to dig deep made my stomach tie into a knot. I wanted everything to stay six feet under, just like them. Becka held the shovel poking at the surface trying to decide where to dig first. I may have bought the house for specific reasons but that’s where the buck stopped.

“Come. I’ll show you to your room.” I moved past her rather testy.

“My room?” I heard the confusion in her voice, and maybe a hint of hurt. Footfalls fell in behind mine.

I led her up the stairs and down the hallway to the guest bedrooms. When I glanced back her smile had disappeared again. I hadn’t missed the surprise in her voice.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want her in my bed. I wanted her there so bad I was practically salivating over the thought of it. I wanted her on top of me, under me, on all fours; but Becka wasn’t ready. It would be cruel to subject either of us to the pain and awkwardness. I also didn’t know if I had enough strength to resist her. To easily seduce her into something she wasn’t ready for and have her resent me for it later.

When we reached her room I turned the handle and held it open for her.




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