Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I slid into the back seat, followed by Niccolo. “Take us to Francoise,” he instructed.
Niccolo kept his eyes trained out his window. He obviously didn’t have any interest in a chat with me. It wasn’t that I sought a friend in him, but I was lonely, and he was the only source of information I had.
I breathed a little easier when we left the gates behind. In broad daylight and with the cool spring sun casting its benevolent light on everything, I felt a flutter of happiness about being back in the city where I’d grown up. Romano Manor presented a stark contrast to the modern, colorful city scenery. It was almost as if I had stepped out of an alternate reality.
“Don’t think about running. I’ll shoot you in the leg if you do.”
“Won’t Nestore be angry if you harm me?”
“He’ll be out of his mind, but if I let you run, nothing will save me.”
I pursed my lips. Was this his way of guilting me into staying? I didn’t owe him anything.
The shop was in downtown LA. A simple window read Francoise Custom Tailor, and behind the glass, I could see Francoise sitting at a table with a sewing machine. My younger guard stepped in first, followed by me and then Niccolo, while guard number two stayed in front of the door.
Francoise looked up from her sewing machine and immediately got up. Her smile was quick when she met my gaze, but vanished when she looked at Niccolo. She gave him a curt nod before she rounded her table and came toward me. “Please follow me to the back so I can measure you in detail.”
She led me into a back room full of shelves that were stacked with hundreds of fabrics. “I must ask you to undress to your underwear so I can take your measurements.”
“You already did.”
“I need more reference points for your dress. Given the short timeframe, it needs to fit perfectly as I won’t have enough time for corrections.”
Niccolo strode past me and searched the room. “Is there a second exit?”
“Behind the rag,” Francoise said. Niccolo positioned himself there with his back turned to me.
When I was sure he wouldn’t risk a peek, I began to undress. My cheeks heated when Francoise stepped up to me. I wasn’t used to being around people in my underwear.
She took a measuring tape from her apron and put it around my throat. My eyes grew wide with shock. “What is this for?”
Did Nestore want to put a collar on me? I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
As if she could read my thoughts, horror filled Francoise’s face. “I don’t do leatherwork. This is for your dress’s collar.”
“A collar?”
“Mr. Romano picked the design of your dress. His instructions are clear.”
“So I don’t get a say?”
“You can pick the lace trimming.”
I let out a huff.
“Please hold still so my measurements are correct,” she said quietly, then wrapped the measuring tape around my throat again. Next, she measured my shoulders, upper arms, wrists, chest, waist, and hips. She gave a satisfied nod when she was done.
“How much longer will this take?” Niccolo inquired.
“This is a demanding dress. I need to be thorough,” Francoise said sternly. She motioned for me to follow her toward a stack with lace. One with roses and tendrils caught my eye. I pointed at it. Francoise pulled it out and laid it on a table. She took out small lace roses and pearls from a drawer beneath it and placed them on the fabric. “I’ll attach pearls, gemstones, and these lace roses on the lace and the rest of your dress.”
“And you’re sure you can do this within seven days?”
“I won’t disappoint Mr. Romano,” Francoise said with a slight waver in her voice.
That evening, Nestore joined me for dinner for the first time since I’d arrived.
His expression reflected curiosity when I sank across from him. The dining room table easily accommodated twenty people, but only two places at opposite ends had been set.
I raised my eyebrow. “Are you scared of getting close to me?”
“Your closeness unsettles me for various reasons,” he drawled as he lifted a glass with red wine.
I did the same and let the alcohol boost my courage. “Why?”
A predatory look crossed his face. “Because I’m not a man who has to restrain himself, but you aren’t my wife yet, so restraint is required.”
“Marriage doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still restrain yourself,” I said softly. Nestore was shirtless as usual, the thick fur coat draped over the back of his chair. His upper body oozed strength, and I could imagine running my fingers along his pecs and biceps, then lower. I had only lived out my desires in my fantasies and wished I could explore them in reality, but I couldn’t help but feel anxious over Nestore’s plans. He scared me.