Page 53 of The Billionaire's Vow

I touched my hot face.Oh, Mr. Rocco Marini! Did you choose this piece of art because you also found it to be an aphrodisiac? Did you want to drive me to madness and beg for you inside of me?

A creak on the floor behind me broke the painting’s entrancing hold, and my head turned quickly to find out what was there.

Isla?

What was she doing here?

Iturned away from the painting towards Isla, still surprised she was close to my age. Her style was impressive—a natural mix of vintage beaded tops and tailored pants that fit her curvaceous physique perfectly. Her dark blonde hair was fashioned in an intricate braid that looked freshly done. When did she have the time?

I gave her a wave in greeting. “Hello. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Her lips curved upward. “I see…Well, I usually do a final walk-through of a new home. Rocco asked me to do it without him. Is that all right with you?”

I glanced around. From what I could see already, the loft was a restored factory with metal grates intermixed with new dark oak wood, an instant love. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Zane cleared his throat, letting me know he was still here. “Excuse me, ladies. I’m going to the security office. If you need anything, text or give me a shout.”

We thanked him, and he walked past the elevators and turned down a hallway.

Isla slid a frameless door open. “This is a closet for your coat and shoes.” Her gaze followed mine to the slippers she had on. “I find these easier to walk around in when I have on silk stockings. There’s another for you if you like?” She helped me out of my coat and hung it up in the hall while I removed my shoes and put on a pair.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“You’re very welcome.” She closed the closet, then gestured for me to follow her to a long table near the elevator. “I left a form on the iPad here.” She lay her hand on it and the screen lit. “You can submit whatever you’re missing. It links to my phone and email. Maggie, your home assistant, will be here soon. She lives here and has a suite that is part of the lower floor. There’s a stairway near the kitchen that leads to it. The refrigerator is stocked, and she’s also a chef and can make anything you like or send out for it.”

Isla gestured for me to follow her around the floating wall with the Pollock painting to a fully furnished space.

I gazed in awe. “No pastels.”

Isla let out a throaty laugh. “Not this home.”

The design exuded a dark, edgy vibe, with deep brown exposed brick walls and industrial piping along the high ceilings. Factory-style windows stretched from the bottom to the mezzanine floor on the far wall, which I imagined gave a lot of light. The rain outside hadn’t stopped and streamed down the windows, but they were thick enough to mask the sound.

“Your primary bedroom is upstairs.” I followed her direction to a staircase of carpeted wood and metal, passing metallic lightfixtures that mimicked tools and antique machinery. Isla paused to press the remote button, and a large screen came from the ceiling.

“For movie watching,” she trilled. It was large enough for a small theater.Did Rocco like to entertain?I let myself think of a party like Nadia and Paul had, where we’d show one of his new films. But then, I was getting ahead of myself. Rocco may have to put that on hold.I hope not indefinitely.

I ran my hand over a leather chair that appeared worn. It was next to custom sectionals of blue and ginger hues that made the room feel richer instead of gothic. In the center was a two-piece set of oak and stone Hubert coffee tables that held neatly stacked books from the nearby bookcases. I appreciated the shelves were mostly empty. It meant that Rocco and I could fill them together. And the impact of my marriage and new life hit me again, and overwhelmed me. What would our married life be like?

“You can test the light settings,” Isla handed me a remote control.

I tested it out. The fuller lights showed off the loft’s chic style, while lower settings created a calming ambiance.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” Isla trilled.

“Yes, I love it,” I told her. I loved everything about the room and the special touches, such as the decorative iron cover on the fireplace and modern paintings and sculptures. All of it together made the room feel complete instead of just a bunch of furniture. In a way, the space had an intimate, masculine feel, almost as if Rocco were present, even though he wasn’t. And with all the work and travel he did, was it an effort to make me feel less alone? If so, I cherished it.

“This is a JJ Palmer interior space. I believe you met him in Italy at the Palio?” Isla remarked, drawing my attention.

My brows rose. “I didn’t know he had time to design this loft for us.”

“He made time for it. He took on Rocco’s briefs, which I usually coordinate with other house designers worldwide. He would love to speak with you if you want to make any changes. His number is saved on your new phone, though I apologize for the reporter who managed to get your number—it happens sometimes.”

“I felt sick when I heard it was a reporter,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

How did it happen? Was Isla less careful? She was the one that arranged my new phone in the first place. My stomach squelched at the thought, and I hated that I now wasn’t as sure about trusting her.

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