Page 11 of Valentino

I’ve known from an early age that I’m only worth what my father can get out of me. My role was to be the perfect doll, like my mom. I always fell short of their expectations, however. Too short, too chubby, too opinionated. Too much, yet never enough.

But when Valentino gently lifted up my shirt, I could see something close to reverence in his gaze. I thought I was making it up, but then he whispered that I was beautiful.

I was so caught off-guard that I didn’t have time to respond before he got to work cleaning up my bandages. God, what a mess. I have no idea what Valentino is going to think of me this morning after everything that happened.

There’s only one way to find out.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I take a deep breath and stand. I find a pair of socks and pull them on, smiling when they go halfway up my calves. I briefly think about finding some pants or shorts from Valentino, but I don’t want to disturb him. Plus, the shirt I'm wearing is practically a dress.

I gather up my long black hair and twist it to the side, letting the strands flow over my left shoulder. Taking one last cleansing breath, I turn the doorknob and peek into the hallway, relieved to see I’m alone.

Tiptoeing out of my room, I head to the stairs and descend, pausing on the bottom step when I see Valentino in the kitchen. My palms grow sweaty and my heart kicks into high gear as I make my way in that direction.

He doesn’t see me at first, giving me time to study his silhouette. Instead of a suit, Valentino is wearing joggers and a black t-shirt that stretches across his chest and showcases his thick biceps. He’s casual today, which hopefully means he’s starting to get more comfortable around me. I don’t know what my future holds, but something tells me Valentino is going to be a very important person to me. He already is.

The far too sexy man pulls out a few boxes of something from a grocery bag, lining them up on the counter. Upon further inspection, I realize the boxes are different kinds of hot chocolate. My heart melts, even more so when Valentino opens another grocery bag and produces a huge bag of marshmallows.

“Will these do, princess?” he asks, startling me.

“You got me hot chocolate?” I whisper, looking between him and the boxes on the counter.

“I was thinking I might have some too, but yes.”

I grin at him, and he returns it. Well, he tries to, anyway. It’s going to take more than that to get a real smile out of him.

“I also picked up some clothes. I didn’t know what to get, so the lady at the store just sort of filled my cart. The bags are in the living room.”

“Valentino, I… You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper.

He shrugs, then looks away, concentrating heavily on the groceries instead of me. Is he embarrassed? It’s kind of adorable. I take pity on him and bring the conversation back to the most important topic.

“There’s just one problem,” I say, tapping my chin as I look over the half-dozen varieties of hot chocolate. Valentino’s brow furrows, making him look even more adorable. Not that I’d ever tell him that. “I prefer my hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles. Like a princess,” I tease, crossing my arms over my chest.

Valentino gives me a playful look, then empties the rest of the grocery bag onto the counter. He has three kinds of whipped cream, three different kinds of sprinkles, as well as mini chocolate chips, and mini butterscotch chips.

“Will this satisfy your sugar craving?” he asks, knowing full well he went above and beyond.

I nod once. “It will suffice,” I declare, bringing a spark to Valentino’s eyes. “Now, let’s get to making some masterpieces,” I say, rubbing my hands together as I survey my options.

Dark chocolate, white chocolate raspberry, milk chocolate and mint, caramel swirl, peanut butter chocolate, and candy cane hot chocolate all stare back at me. I open the dark chocolate box and pluck out a packet. Looking over my shoulder, I see Valentino standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Which one do you want?” I ask, waving my hand in front of the selection.

“Uh, what do you recommend?”

“I mean, I like the dark chocolate, but you might be different. What have you had before? I can direct you to something similar.”

Valentino looks up at the ceiling and lets out a sigh. “Can’t say I’ve ever had hot chocolate,” he admits.

“What?”I gasp in horror. My mouth drops as I stare at him. “Never?”

He shakes his head and shrugs. “I don’t have room for such frivolous things in my life.”

Ouch. Are we still talking about the hot chocolate? Or perhaps we’ve moved on to discussing me and how I need to get out of his hair.

“Right,” I say after a beat of silence, hoping I don’t sound too disappointed. “That makes sense.”

“But then again, I’ve never tried to make room. Maybe hot chocolate would do me some good.”

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