A Sip of You(15)

“We’ve been expecting you, Miss Kelly.” She nodded at William. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Lambourne. I’ve prepared everything as you requested.”

“Thank you, Fernanda.” William smiled at me. “I’ll be cooking dinner for us.”

“Ring me if you need me, Mr. Lambourne.” Then she turned and walked into what I guessed was the pantry.

William took my hand again. “One more room, Catherine.” From the velvet tone of his voice I had a feeling I knew where we were going. Finally.

He took me up a set of stairs and guided me down the hall to the master suite, which was more like the master wing. The rooms—plural—were huge and luxuriously furnished in rich, dark tones, and the bedroom contained the biggest bed I’d ever seen.

“Is this a bedroom or a small country?” I joked as I bounced on the bed with my feet dangling off the edge.

William gestured to the closet. “Your luggage has already been unpacked.” He opened the door, then pulled me up and led me inside a closet that was bigger than my living room. The few clothes I’d brought hung in the front, but there were also clothes I’d never seen before. I glanced at William, and he couldn’t contain his grin. “I told you I’d make sure you had everything you needed.”

I gaped at him as I ran my hand over the racks of clothing, feeling the sensuous fabrics. There was a small, thoughtfully planned wardrobe here—everything from jeans to two evening dresses—and though it didn’t favor my favorite color, black, it seemed to suit me. I wondered if William had picked out all of this himself and if so, when. I didn’t know about this. “These are all for me?”

“Of course they’re for you,” William said, but I was hardly listening. I moved into the closet and stared at racks of shoes and a whole section of drawers filled with lingerie. Really top notch lingerie, the kind I drooled over.

“William…I-I…this is too much,” I managed.

“Nothing is too much for you. And I told you I’d take care of everything.” He gave me a tender kiss on the lips and cupped my face with his hands. “Relax. Freshen up. Come down when you’re ready. Dinner will be at eight.”

I nodded, my heart pounding and my head spinning as I watched him leave.

As soon as I was alone, I flopped back on the giant bed. Holy shit. For a few moments I was simply too stunned to do more than lie there. And then I seriously needed to talk to someone.

I grabbed my cell and called Beckett. He answered on the second ring, and I heard music in the background. “Is this a bad time?” I asked.

“Of course not! I’ve been dying to talk to you. Are you in Napa?”

“Yes. And get this, Beckett.” I told him about the private jets and our fooling around at thirty thousand feet.

“Cat, I would seriously hate you if I didn’t love you so much.”

I laughed. “I would hate me too, and I haven’t even told you about the house yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“It’s incredible, Beckett. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a mansion—like a straight-out-of-the-rolling-hills-of-Tuscany kind of mansion.”

“Listen to you, auditioning for HGTV or something.”

“I’m not even done.” I sat up and folded my legs, Indian style. “The views are amazing. I knew Napa was gorgeous, but I had no idea. And the art. I’m afraid to get too close to it. It’s everywhere and it must be worth millions. I mean, I think I saw a Monet in the living room. A Monet, like the kind you see in a museum. Can you fucking believe it? I could get lost in this place, it’s so big. I guess it’s really an estate. And it has a name. Casa di Rosabela.”

Beckett sighed. “I’ve always wanted to live on an estate with a name and a Monet. Can I come and visit? I promise not to pee in the pool.”

I rolled my eyes. “Beckett, I’m seriously a little freaked out right now. I knew William was wealthy, but I didn’t know, you know?”

“No.”

I laughed.

“Cat,” Beckett said, his tone turning serious. “So what if the guy has two private jets—”

“Five.”

“Okay, five—five? Seriously?”

“Yes! And a villa—I mean, a mansion.”

“I thought we were calling it an estate.”

“Whatever. I haven’t even told you about the vintage Porsche or the closet stocked with designer clothes and shoes all for me.”

“And I want to hear all about them, but first you need to calm down. So what if the guy has more money than I don’t know, Oprah or somebody. You’re into him, not his stuff. Right?”