MARRIED MY EX's UNCLE

Chapter four

The black Mercedes turned onto a private road lined with oak trees. The people who lived in this metro estate were pure multi-billionaires. A single building was with them years of my salary.

We made a left turn to an iron gate that opened on its own. My eyes widened as the mansion came into view.

It wasn't just big. It was enormous. Three stories of pale stone and tall windows that gleamed in the evening sunset. A fountain stood in the circular driveway, water cascading from marble angels.

The front doors opened. A butler in a crisp suit bowed. "Welcome home, Mrs. Lorenzo."

"Thank you, James." I read his name tag.

Inside, the foyer took my breath away. Marble floors stretched endlessly. A grand staircase curved upward like something from a movie. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead.

This was insane. It is nearly unbelievable one person can own all of this for himself. Now it's my home as well.

"Mrs. Lorenzo."

An elderly woman in a gray dress approached. Her silver hair was pulled into a neat bun. I saw the way she assessed me from head to toe.

"I'm Eleanor. I've been with the family for thirty years. Welcome home."

"Thank you."

"Your bath is ready. Lorenzo must not be kept waiting." She clapped her hands and two maids came out. They took my bag.

I followed Eleanor up the staircase, my hand trailing along the smooth banister. Down a hallway lined with oil paintings.

We went through some days. Eleanor opened a door to reveal a bedroom that was larger than my entire apartment.

A big bed dominated the space, draped in cream and gold fabrics. French doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the gardens.

"The dressing room is through there." Eleanor pointed to another door. "Shall we get you out of that dress?" She said as if it was dirty.

In the dressing room, mirrors lined the walls, reflecting me from every angle. Eleanor began unfastening the tiny buttons down my back.

"Arms up, dear."

I hesitated. I'd never undressed in front of anyone before.

Eleanor noticed my hesitation. "I'm a woman. You have nothing to be shy about."

Slowly, I raised my arms. The dress slipped off, dropping at my feet. I crossed my arms over my chest.

Eleanor poured some fragrance into the bath tub. Lavender and jasmine filled the air,

"Step in."

I closed my eyes. I'd never been bathed by someone else before. She washed me as if I fell into mud.

When Eleanor finally helped me from the tub, I felt new. Like reborn.

"Lorenzo specifically asked you to wear this dress."

The black gown was stunning. It had a long slit reaching up my knees.

After my hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded down my back. I barely recognized myself.

"Dinner is served in the garden," Eleanor said. "I'll show you the way."

We descended the stairs and passed through the house. Each room we passed was more beautiful than the last. Eleanor opened a set of glass doors.

The garden felt magical.

String lights hung between trees, creating a canopy of stars. A round table was set in the center, covered in white linen and set with china and crystal that probably cost more than my salary.

And there was Don Lorenzo. I felt a knot in my stomach.

"Hailey."

My name on his lips did something to my insides. Something warm and fluttering.

He walked toward me, his eyes never leaving my face.

"You're beautiful."

Heat flooded my cheeks. "Thank you. So are you." The words tumbled out awkwardly. "I mean, you look good. Nice."

A smile tugged at his mouth,

"Thank you."

He offered his arm and led me to the table. He pulled out my chair then sat across from me.

The butler appeared shortly with a bottle of wine, two maids came with soup, salad and some strawberries.

As we ate in silence, the tight knot returned.

His dark eyes would meet mine across the table, hold for a few seconds then drift away. Then back again.

Every time our eyes met, my pulse quickened. My cheeks would then turn red on their own.

Then I thought of what Tom said: did he really have an erecta dysfunction man or did no woman actually strike him at all? Should I ask him?

After dinner, low music starts playing in the background. Things were feeling a little bit awkward.

Lorenzo stood and extended his hand. "Dance with me?"

My heart kicked against my ribs. "I'm not a very good dancer."

"Neither am I."

I placed my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine, he pulled me close to the small stone patio beside the table.

His hand claimed my wait, it felt warm through the thin silk. My hand rested on his shoulder, feeling the solid muscle beneath his jacket. We swayed together, barely moving, just breathing the same air.

I looked up to steal a glance at his face. He was already looking down at me, his dark eyes looking deep into my soul.

The space between us felt charged. His thumb moved in small circles on my waist, and heat pooled low in my belly. My breath came faster.

"Hailey." His voice was deeper than before. Filled with so many emotions. My name had never sounded that sweet.

"Yes?"

He dipped his head. I rose on my toes, drawn to him like gravity.

His chest was beating as fast as mine did. All I wanted was for him to kiss me like he did at the city hall.

His arm tightened around my waist, pulling close against him until I could feel every plane of his body.

His other hand tangled in my hair. His tongue swept into my mouth, and I gasped against his lips. My knees were going weak.

Heat flooded my body. My fingers curled into his shirt, holding on. I'd never been kissed like this.

His hands roamed my back, my sides, the curve of my hip. Every touch left fire. I pressed closer, wanting more,

It was getting really hot inside my body, I felt my pants get wet. I wanted him to touch me down there too like I'm those romance novels.

Yet he broke away.

"We should stop," he said, his voice strained.

"Why?" My words came out breathless, almost desperate.

I searched his eyes.

"Because if we don't stop now, I won't be able to." His hands still held me, his grip almost painful. "And you deserve better than that."

My body still thrummed with want. "

"I won't regret it."

"You don't know that." His thumb traced my cheekbone, gentle despite the hunger in his eyes.

"Okay," I whispered.