CHAPTER SIX
DEE TRAVELED THE HALLS of Jonathan’s compound, arriving at the burnt-orange lounge made of marble floors. The space sported a gorgeous hand-painted ceiling with French Empire crystal chandeliers that flattered the Mediterranean mansion.
“Jesus.” Dee stared at the ceiling, wondering how such delicate details could be in a massive space.
“Impressed?” Jonathan stood under the arch with his arms folded, the black shirt and slacks making his silver eyes gleam.
“Who wouldn’t be?” Dee spun around, pointing to the colors in the ceiling. “Your home’s a freaking museum.”
He chuckled, walking down the little steps that led into the room. “My home extends me. Isn’t yours the same for you?”
“Not really.” She lowered her arm, still enraptured by the painting. “I love my place but it’s
