“It is a beautiful house, Kristoff. Really! This house is like a fairytale mansion. But I know how scary some quiet nights can be in my house. And my whole house can probably fit into the kitchen of this one. I can only imagine when you hear a crack in the middle of the night and you go check it out. Every freaking crack gives me a heart attack.”
He smiled. “Are you telling me you don’t want to sleep over?”
“As long as you don’t leave me to sleep alone, I can stay.”
He stopped in front of the grand entrance to his mansion and came over to open the door for me.
As I got out of the car, he wrapped his arm around me. “C’mon, let me show you around.”
We walked together towards his massive house when a butler opened the door.
“Good Afternoon, Mr. Baldwin,” the elderly man said.
“Hello James,” Kristoff greeted him. Holy shit, what is it with this family and butlers. He went on introducing us. “James, this is Genevieve Rose.”
“Miss Rose,” he smiled at me.
“Please just call me Gemma,” I answered, uncomfortable to be called so formally by someone older than me.
When his butler left us, I asked Kristoff in amazement. “You have a butler?”
“He is not a butler. He helps out with some stuff around the house,” Kristoff answered while my eyes were taking in all the luxury.
“Oh, ok. Do you have a good cook too? Because if you do, I am all for moving in. Regardless of how creepy it gets at night,” I joked while looking left and right, admiring it all.
We entered the house, his enormous and grand foyer welcoming us could put my house to shame. I could only imagine the parties he held here.Similar to the stuck up party he took me to, I thought to myself. He guided me through his house, and everything was decorated with very expensive taste.
He took me around the house, from the ridiculously large wine cellar, through the kitchen, several living rooms, dining room, ballroom, to a bar room.
“I do, actually,” Kristoff said as we entered the library.
I look at him puzzled. “You do what?”
“I do have a cook,” he clarified.
I chuckled back at him. “I guess I should watch what I say.”
“Should I take that as moving into this house is off the table?” His voice was light, but he looked strangely serious. He had the same determined look when closing his acquisition earlier this week.
I tilted my head to the side as I studied him. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so all I could say was, “Very funny, Kristoff.”
I turned around curiously to see his library, and I found the room I loved the most in his home without the need to see anything else. The large library was set up comfortably with furniture while still giving out a fifteenth century vibe.
“Oh my gosh,” I mumbled, wide eyes looking around. “This room,” I sighed. “...this room is just perfect.”
A beautiful vaulted ceiling made the room feel huge. I left his side and walked over to built in bookshelves that covered the walls from top to bottom, and there were also steps that led to another floor of bookshelves. And from that floor you could look down into the sitting area of the library.
I looked at Kristoff. “I don’t envy you for anything. But this... this is heaven!”
“You are welcome to use it anytime,” Kristoff said, leaning against one of the columns, his hands in his pockets, observing me casually.
“I want to steal it,” I grinned at him. “I want it to be mine.” I turned again to read through the book titles to get an idea of what he reads. “I didn’t know you are an avid reader.” My fingers were lightly brushing against the book covers. Some appeared very old.
“I enjoy it, but frankly I mostly read business lately,” he commented. “I don’t remember the last time I entered this room.”
“What?” I gave him my most horrific look. “I’d be living in this room if it were mine,” I mumbled more to myself. I did not want to leave this room, especially not to go to a nightclub. “I guess we better get ready if we don’t want to rush through dinner, or be late for the party.”
I reluctantly walked away from the books and approached Kristoff whose gaze never wavered from me. As I got closer, he pulled me into him. “It can be yours,” he spoke softly against my lips.