Cleo Miranda Adams is a part-time clerk at a small antique shop and an aspiring guitarist. Music has been part of her life since birth. After a tough loss, she focuses on building a name for herself and doing what she loves.
Billionaire and perfecti...
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The next day, I invited Cleo for lunch at my office. There's a knock at the door, and Clara pokes her head in. "Mr. Moretti, a Cleo Adams is here to see you." Finally. I nod. I don't hesitate to walk to the door, more like a sprint. I missed her. I feel like I can't breathe without her.
I hear a knock on the door. I quickly reply, "come in," and her beauty finally greets my eyes. Her white jeans hug her legs, showing off every curve and dip. Just beautiful. The black thin strap top gives me the perfect view of her neck and shoulders but sadly hides the chest I recently happily marked. She barely has time to close the door when I crush her body to mine and kiss her.
Her kisses are intoxicating, taking every brain cell I have. My arms easily swallow her waist as I devour her. Her soft fingers rake through my hair, enjoying the feel of me. I pull away after a few seconds resting my forehead against her. My eyes close as I bask in the moment. Just the feel of her makes me want to protect her even more. "Hi," she whispers as she strokes my stubble.
"Hi," I whisper back. I know the words I want to say, but they can't seem to leave my mouth.
"Are you okay?" she asks me, catching my chin and lifting my gaze to meet hers. This woman can read me like a book. She knows something is wrong.
"There is something I need to discuss with you," my words tremble.
"Okay. What's going on?" She studies my face. I lead her to the leather sofa in my office. I keep my hand in hers as we sit. I take a breath and figure out the best way to tell her. She strokes her thumb back and forth on the top of my hand.
"I made a mistake," I admit.
"Okay," she looks me in the eye, paying attention to my every word. I take a deep breath, and finally tell her about Sofia, the material, Agosti, the way I blew up at her, the agreement, and Taylor's ultimatum.. I couldn't tell her about the threat, though. She doesn't need to worry about looking over her shoulder. I will protect her.
Cleo sits there, absorbing every word and syllable with emotion absent on her features.
"Cleo, baby. Talk to me," I brush the pad of my thumb over her cheekbone. She snaps out of her puzzled daze.
"Sorry, sorry. I was just processing," she gives me a small smile. "So, what's the plan? Did Danvers come up with anything yet?"
I sigh. "No. Not yet. We tried a civil way, but he didn't accept our price."
"He wouldn't," she simply stated. "His sister died in the process, Chris. Money can't console a broken heart."
I sigh and lean on the back of the sofa, closing my eyes. "It's all my fault."
"Hey," she places a reassuring hand on my thigh. "Everyone makes mistakes, and yes, they come back to haunt us, but we can't let them stop us," she moves closer to me. "We will figure this out. The right way." She sounded so sure of herself. She didn't know her safety was at stake. We sit in silence for a few minutes before Cleo pulls me out of my thoughts. "Hey," she kisses my cheek.
I raise my head and look at her. My heartbeat quickens when her hand caresses my cheek. Her fingers scratch the hair on the nape of my neck, which causes me to relax in her hold and lean on her shoulder. "Thank you," I mutter. This woman has become my strength in a short amount of time. She heard every word and still stayed by my side, helping me through it. Her strength amazes me every time. There's no doubt that I love her. Not one.
"Don't thank me. We can figure this out," she assures me. I look up and stare at her, and suddenly have the urge to say those three little words.
"What?" she looks at me curiously. I shake my head and give her a quick kiss. Not the time.
"Nothing. Let's eat," I sat up. We spent the next two hours eating and talking about trivial things. I gave her a sneak peek of some of the new designs. She beamed at me and gave me her unbiased opinion. Can I tell her now?
"Oh! Before I forget," I look up at my girl. She hands me a red envelope while doing an awkward bow. "Mr. Moretti," she says in the sweetest tone. I chuckle and take the envelope from her hands.
"What's this?" I start to open it.
"Luca's wedding invitation. Would you do me the honour of being my date, Signor Moretti?" She smiles at me.
"I'll have to think about it. I am a busy man," I smirk, knowing she wants to smack me for that, but if the glare she throws at me could kill I would be 6 feet under right now.
"I mean yes," I blurt out, not wanting to die today. "I would love to accompany you, tesoro." I take her hand and kiss the top of it. She rolls her eyes and smiles.
She loves my childish side. I accidentally spilt that my mother always pinches my cheeks for fun, and she didn't hesitate to do it. I swear this woman makes me crazy. Her smile does things to me.
Things that can be summarized with three little words.
