Page 82 of Heartless Sinner

He wasn't raised the way I was, but that’s not his fault. “I’m just nervous. I’m sure I’ll be okay once we get there.”

He moves to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin. “Think about what we’ll be doing when we get back home, and you’ll be fine.”

My heart triple beats and my mind conjures memories of how we’ve spent the last few days wrapped up in each other. If we weren’t in bed, we were doing something that saw him touching me in some way even when we were out.

“You’re imagining us together, aren’t you?” He licks over the shell of my ear.

“Maybe.”

“You better be. When we get back, I want you to tell me all the things you thought about.”

“You’re always like this, aren’t you?” I giggle.

“Yeah, pretty much. I don’t think you’d like me any other way.” He rests his head on the back of the seat and stares at me with mischief dancing in his mysterious eyes.

“I like you just the way you are.”

“Don’t encourage me. I can get worse, wife-to-be.”

“Maybe I don’t mind that.”

I can’t resist the smile that slides across my lips. I’ve warmed to him, grown closer, and I can’t help how I feel. Nor how he makes me feel. It’s like I’m living in a fairytale and every day with him is pure magic.

I meet his lips for a kiss when he pulls me closer and I decide that I do need to calm down.

The worst thing that can happen is that no one likes me. Compared to the hell I’ve been through, it’s the least. I don’t need people to like me. Just Micah. He’s all that matters, and I’m not thinking that because, as we speak, half a million sits in my bank account and he’s sent people to help my father at home and in his workshop. I’m thinking that because that’s how I feel about him in my soul.

We pull apart, and Micah gazes ahead. “We’re here.”

I look ahead, too, as we turn down a private road. Moments later, we approach large metal gates that look like the ones I’ve seen on the way here.

They open for us and I realize immediately that’s where the similarities between the Delarosa estate and their neighbors end.

I catch glimpses of grounds so vast they disappear into the darkness, and pristine topiaries shaped like spirals line the winding driveway like silent sentinels, twisting toward the sky.

Three-tiered fountains command different sections of the circular drive, their waters dancing silver and gold under carefully positioned lights. And then there’s a lake.

"Your family have their own lake?" I whisper, my nerves returning.

"My mother loves the water and landscapes. She thinks they help make the house feel homier."

My lips part to answer, but I forget how to breathe as the Delarosa mansion appears before us like something from a dream.

The medieval castle structure makes Micah's home look like a guesthouse. Three stories of old-world Italian architecture stretch endlessly in both directions, disappearing into the growing shadows of pristine hedgerows.

Warm light spills from what must be fifty arched windows, and the entrance is flanked by towering Corinthian columns that belong in ancient Rome.

A grand staircase wider than a city street sweeps up to wooden double doors, and motion-activated lights illuminate the intricate stonework and wrought-iron balconies.

My brain struggles to process what I’m seeing, and any attempt to quell my nerves dissolves as if I never tried.

"Ready?" Micah asks as the car stops.

I look back at him, my lips parted. “I don’t know.”

He gives me that smile again and brushes my nose with his. “Everything will be fine. Come on, let’s go.”

He steps out first, looking sharp and lethal in his tailored Brioni suit, then he extends his hand to help me. I take it and step out,

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