CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
ELENA

I lazily stretched out in Alexander's arms and relished the decadence of waking without any immediate catastrophe demanding our attention.

"Good morning, handsome," he whispered against my hair, his own breath husky from sleep.

"Flattery will take you anywhere," I told him, twisting in his arms so I could face him.
He'd perfected the rumpled hair look and I found I couldn't resist burrowing my fingers through it.

"I hoped you would say that." and his smile was intimate in a way that made my stomach flutter. "Because I have a confession."

"Oh no. Are you already secretly married? A vampire?"

Alexander chuckled, "Worse. I'd love to take a walk."

I blinked. "That's unusually normal for you. There's a catch, right?"

"Nothing at all. No security team, no phone calls at all, no emergencies." He sketched a finger down my collarbone and tiny shivers trembled on my skin. "Us and the lake and whatever picnic Paolo can arrange."

"Living dangerously, Mr. Moretti." I attempted to be playful, but there was something in his gaze that tightened my chest.
"Are you certain that's a good idea?"

Most likely not." Alexander's thumb skimmed over my lower lip. "But I'd appreciate a normal day with you prior to knowing how we're going to handle my dad. A day when we're just us."

The simplicity of that statement opened a space inside my chest. "Okay," I whispered. "Let's be normal."

We walked along the lakeshore an hour later carrying a ludicrously costly picnic basket between us. Alexander insisted on carrying it even when I protested about his dainty billionaire hands.

"Tell me about growing up here," I said, savouring the warmth between my feet and the softness of the sand. "Before things became so complicated."

Alexander went quiet for a moment, his mind far away. "Summers at our house were some of the few times I ever got to be a regular kid at all. No board meetings, no etiquette classes, no speeches about the family name." He flashed a wry smile. "Marco and I would spend hours combing every inch of beach."

Alexander halted, turning and facing me with a gaze that caused my heart to skip a beat. "Elena, when we reach the city of Chicago—"

"No," I interrupt, laying my finger against his lips. "No talk of Chicago today. Today we're Elena and Alexander, strolling about a very pretty lake and ignoring the rest of the known universe."

He kissed my finger then gently moved my hand away. "I have to tell you this. ASs we go see my dad, I want to promise you complete honesty regarding my family. No secrets, no white lies. Whatever he might tell me, whatever we might find out—you'll hear everything I find out."

The sincerity in his tone constricted my throat. "Alexander—"

"I'm serious. You had the right to be angry about the questioning. I should have informed you right away." He grasped my hands in his grip, warm and firm. "I will not let him destroy this. Us." Alexander's eyes were ablaze, determined. "You're far too important."

I leaned in and kissed him quietly and wrapped all of my knotted emotions in the kiss. Both of us were quiet when we broke from the embrace.

"Sei bellissima," Alexander whispered.

"I'm not sure what you've said but it sounded sexy."

"I said you're beautiful." He stroked the curve of my cheekbone. "Inside and out."

"Smooth talker," I teased, although I grinned about it. "Do you bring out the romantic Italian talk here?"

"Does It work?"

"Maybe." I feigned deliberation on it. "Provide another."

"Ti amo," he uttered simply.

Though not knowing Italian, I could guess what this meant. My breath caught in my throat. "Alexander."

"I know we haven't known each other long," he said quickly. "I know this is all moving fast and complicated and probably insane—"

I kissed him once more and quieted his chattering. "Ti amo anch'io," I whispered over his lips, praying I got it right.

Alexander smiled graciously. "Your accent's absolutely dreadful."

"Shut up and kiss me properly."

He did, thoroughly and completely, until my knees went weak and I had to grip his shoulders for support. When we finally broke apart, we found a secluded spot by the water to spread out our picnic blanket.

The food tasted wonderful—fresh bread and local cheese and fruit that tasted of sunshine. We ate and chatted and laughed, joked, told our stories and our dreams and the kinds of random thoughts which only emerge when you're completely at ease with a person.

"What do you want?" Alexander demanded harshly. "After all of this has passed and all is back to normal—what would you like your life to be?"

I pondered on the question sincerely. "Honestly? I'd like to paint. Really and truly paint, not just to survive. I'd like a studio full of good light and space to make a mess in. I'd like to travel and be able to see all the things I've painted without knowing it." I hesitated. "What about you?"

"I'd like to create something worthwhile. Maybe not profitable but worthwhile. And I'd like someone I can share it with. A woman who challenges me and who makes me laugh and who isn't awed by my wealth."

"Tall order," I quipped. "Anyone in particular?"

"I might have someone in mind," he said gravely, pulling me close. "If she's interested in the position or not."

"What are the benefits?"

"Fantastic medical benefits. All-expense-paid vacations. Perks at the CEO's private bathroom."

"Sold," I answered at once. "The bathroom did it for me."

Alexander chuckled and it echoed over the water. "I love you, Elena Rossi."

"I love you too, Alexander Moretti. Despite your questionable relatives and your theatrics."

"My theatrics are—"

I silenced him with a kiss and for a moment we forgot about everything but each other and the idyllic Italian afternoon.

As we were getting set to return to the villa, my phone began ringing. The screen indicated the name of Sofia on it and I almost didn't answer but somehow got persuaded to do so.

"Come on Sof, hurry up, I'm having a moment here."

"I am sorry, Elena," she replied firmly, her words clipped and anxious. "I have something I must tell you and you're going to dislike hearing it."

My stomach dropped. "What's it?"

"Someone's asking about you in Chicago. About your parents and their accident."

My muscles contracted involuntarily and I shuddered. "What kinds of questions?"

"The kind which makes me wonder whether someone knows a lot more about your family history than they should. Elena."