Page 38 of Broken Bonds

“Since we are creating a new beginning,” he says, his mouth so close to mine. “This is how fighting should always end in our home.” He seals his lips over mine.

It’s difficult to believe that there is a we.

But it’s more difficult to resist him.

Chapter 13

“As much as I’d like to stay here with you,” Lionel says softly, kissing the inside of my wrist, “I’m starving, and there’s a pie and a block of white cheddar waiting for us.”

We are still sitting on the hardwood floor, embracing each other, exactly how I like to be with him, with my head on his shoulder as he caresses my back. We’ve both been unable to break the contact, as if touching each other had become as fundamental to us as breathing. He moved his arms to accommodate my face into the curve of his neck, in that position inhaling his scent I feel as if that’s what dreams are made of. That I can reach my goals and nothing is impossible.

Even though I’ve already dried my eyes, my face is swollen and surely red. Lionel doesn’t seem to mind, so I’ve decided that I’m not going to care either.

“Can we stay here forever?” I ask him, hidden in this little corner, where the world’s problems seem so far away.

“The bubble doesn’t have to pop,” he replies with a light laugh. “We have the entire house to ourselves and all the time in the world. Although you have to study and it would be good for me to work for a while, I have two upcoming projects, and my team is waiting.”

Damn time… the cruelest executioner.

“The clock never stops,” I tell him.

“For nothing or no one,” he adds as he fiddles with the strands of my hair. “Fortunately, at the company, we never skimp on buying good insurance. We won’t have to cover the extra charges for delaying the work.”

I realize that I don’t know anything about his work, absolutely nothing. “Are you the type of boss who wants everyone to depend on him?”

He laughs. “No, I’d go crazy. I started the company years ago with two college mates, they sold their shares soon after and I decided to continue on my own. I’m not very interested in the public part of the business, but I have a good eye for choosing land. I like the excitement of participating in an auction and winning the perfect place for a new development. For the last two years, I’ve been building high-end residential communities like this, and I’ve hired a fairly brilliant group of architects and engineers to take care of the larger residential areas. They travel, supervise, and take care of the hands-on details, while I can dedicate myself to what I really love. Then the realtors do their magic.”

I suppose it’s a luxury that very few can afford, do what they really love, and make money. In a way, I do too, but my business is still taking baby steps. The time will come when I can offer my mother a good life, without worries, and have a little savings for any rainy days. But in the meantime, I have to keep learning and working hard.

“How did you know that architecture was your thing?”

“What is something children who grow up with nothing dream about?”

Having a place to call home, I answer in my mind.

He knows what I’m thinking, of course, he does. “There’s your answer.”

His words make more and more sense. It isn’t so difficult to understand this Lionel when you really pay attention; his need to pause before answering, his silence speaking volumes.

He builds the houses, and the people who buy them take care of turning them into a home.

“Then why is your house still empty?”

“Because it’s just a house, Stella, and I was here alone,” he replies as if it was obvious. “But now that you are here, that will change.”

“Lionel,” I rebuke him, patting his leg.

“I moved here in a rush, without thinking things through. I was supposed to sell this one and move to another property, but time kept passing by and I never did.” Then he lowers his voice a lot to finish. “Maybe I was just waiting for you…”

Straight to my heart. This man and his silver tongue…

“Why, Mr. Kral, you’re such a romantic.”

I lift my head to look directly into those brown eyes I love so much. And then to that dimple on his chin that looks like an arrow pointing at those lips.

His hand goes up my shoulders, following my neck, until it lands on my chin.

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?”

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