Tangled In Strings

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Sure. You have to make sure the person won't ever find out though."

"You'll probably re-gift all of my gifts to you."

He smirks. "You got me presents?"

"Yes, a few days ago. But, they are just as terrible as these."

"I don't know," he hums. "If you set out an espresso maker, I won't turn it away."

I set down my coffee, reaching for my phone.

"What are you typing?"

"A reminder to get you an espresso maker."

He grabs the phone out of my hand, laughing. I glare at him, without malice. He tucks it into his coat, and turns his attention back to me.

"I don't need any gifts from you. Not now."

Despite the intimidating public eye, he clasps my face gently, and I can't help but tilt my cheek into his smooth palm. His hand is warm, and comforting against my chilled skin, and my eyes close in reaction.

"You know when I first knew I loved you?" I say, the words stumbling from my tongue candidly. My eyes open when his hand moves down from my face until his fingers are sliding between mine in my lap, and find him, waiting. I've shocked him as much as I've shocked myself.

"Christmas...when I felt so alone, I couldn't think." I inhale, shaking my head with remembrance. "When I saw you, coming down the street, it was suddenly my only thought. I kept repeating it in my head. 'You love him. You love this man. It's happened.'"

His eyes say quite a bit, softening at the last part of my confession, revealing enjoyment, and a hint of unease—no doubt, mirroring my own expression. When he begins to smile particularly, my lips twist with suspicion.

"What?"

Taking my actual breath away, he flashes me a wide grin. "And yet, I had to pry the words from your stiff, stubborn fingers, didn't I? Took me damn weeks!" he teases.

My eyes roll, and I remove my hand from his, to clasp the nape of his neck. His dark curls tease the edges of my fingers as I pull myself close to him. His eyes sweep over my face with desire, and excitement as I press my lips to his cheekbone, and breathe against his skin, "I can say it easy now, can't I?"

"You know, why don't you practice?"

Instead, I kiss him. I kiss him until Sam interrupts us.

...

"When is Giovanni arriving?"

After a small malfunction in the dress I'd chosen to wear for his big show, to which Rebecca had to locate pins and sewing needles, the dress is decent to appear in public again. She makes sure the strapless black dress is secure by the zipper, while I revel in my embarrassment and discontentment.

"I hate this."

"It's completely natural. And you can't even tell."

"I've blown up."

"Gorgeously. You are carrying this baby very well."

I roll my eyes at her in the bathroom mirror, attempting to rid myself of the thoughts of being in front of cameras while my dress is being held together by pins. I answer her question.

"He'll be here in an hour for last minute revisions. The press should be arriving any minute."

"Where do you want me to direct them?"

"I've already laced off a corner, by the sculptures. Have the valet arrived?"

"Yes. Ready and waiting by the doors."