Page 57 of The Billionaire's Pact

“Take as many as you like,” he offered.

I picked out a cozy mystery, then followed him through the formal dining room that had a tiered crystal chandelier and fresco-painted ceilings. The room could easily seat twelve.

We continued on the tour through the contemporary features of the estate. There was actually a cinema with seats and a screen for movies. It was pristine.

“Does anyone ever use it?” I joked.

“Yeah, a few times. Grandpa prefers to read, and he got it for us grandkids. But we rarely come to this house.”

I plopped down on one of the reclining seats and pushed the side to recline. “Such a shame.”

Rocco chuckled. “It is. I’ll make a point of getting a movie for us to watch.”

I climbed up and continued on the tour to the sauna and indoor pool enclosed by glass and tile.

“I had them prepare this for me. I like to swim laps in the morning,” he bent down and touched the water. On the side of the exit was another stone stairwell. This one went to the cellar with rows of wine.

“You don’t drink, right?,” he said, and I nodded. But he did, so he took a bottle with him back upstairs. We passed along a corridor with bedrooms ready-made for visitors. Then we returned to the East wing, ending at a huge primary room.

“This is where you’ll stay,” Rocco announced.

It had a king-sized, four-poster canopy bed with chocolate oak pillars and embroidered curtains. Above the fireplace was a portrait of the same beautiful woman I’d seen in the painting of the couple.

His expression turned wistful. “That’s my late grandma, Aurora. This was her room.”

“They had separate rooms?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Grandma snored.”

I laughed.

“But let me show you why she loved it.”

I followed him as he opened two double wooden doors to a stone balcony. The entire city of Florence was in view and I gulped, clasping my hands to my chest. I could see the cathedral domes and spiraling bell towers, bridges, rooftops, and surrounding hills of green vineyards of olives, grapes, fruit, and cypress trees. All the monuments and winding hedges were there—the ancient married with the current.

A warm gust of wind blew my hair back, and I ran my hands down my arms.

Rocco came behind me, and without a word, he hugged me, bringing more heat to my skin and a shiver ran through my body. I leaned back, inviting him to stay longer, and he drew me closer, resting his chin on my head.

“Grandpa was sure you’d love this house. He calls it his magic place.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“It’s where my grandmother and him had spent the early days of their marriage. They fell in love here.” He dropped his arms, and moved toward the room. His brief embrace left my pulse racing. It had felt natural this time. “Are you feeling jet-lagged?”

I lifted one shoulder. “A little tired, but what will you do?”

“I have work,” he said.

“I don’t have any.” I shrugged.

“Well that can change. See what you want to do.”

My heart lifted. “Really?”

“Why not?” he said. “I’ve gone from corporate CEO of our business ventures firm, investing in tech start-up companies to producing movies and documentaries. My latest took me on trips around the world.”

“Glenn mentioned an international cuisine show? Like Anthony Bourdain? I always loved his shows and travels,” I enthused.

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