Page 45 of Marcus

“Mostly dimensions and where things would go based on the size of whatever is going into the rooms. I need to measure the other spaces as well, but I tend to work on two or three rooms at a time, and while those begin to have work done, I move onto the other spaces.”

“Ah.”

Well …

“I think my mother is going to like this.” He smiled at the one spare bedroom that looked as though roses and stained glass would be a prominent decorative feature. “Where on earth are you going to get stained glass to frame, anyway? I like the roses in that room, also.”

She laughed nervously.

Still, he heard what she tried to hide.

That heat.

Because fuck yeah, he bet she was remembering their moment in the solarium just as well as he currently did. Quite frankly, the memory of that and the night that followed in her hotel room was the only damn thing that got him through the last two weeks of not seeing her.

Cella had quickly become something to Marcus.

Something he didn’t understand.

An addiction, maybe.

An obsession, almost certainly.

She filled his thoughts when he should be focusing on literally anything and everything else but her. He struggled to keep his questions to himself while the two of them had a moment away from their very busy lives. All he wanted to ask was when are you coming back to me?

The woman wasn’t even his.

And fuck, he felt like maybe she could be.

Maybe he wanted her to be.

Those were very dangerous feelings for a man like him. Beyond that, it was quite the precarious situation he found himself in day after day. Never had something—or someone, for that matter—swept into his mind and life the way Cella Marcello did.

Nothing took away his focus.

And yet, she did it without trying at all.

La famiglia had been Marcus’s first love from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant to be a Guzzi son and appreciate his family’s legacy. To be made … that was the only thing he ever wanted and worked for. Once he was a made man, taking care of the family took over his every waking moment.

Rarely did he do something for him. Never did something take away his attention. Except this woman, it seemed. And he couldn’t find it in himself to hate it.

“Marcus?”

“Hmm?”

He exited out of the previews of her plans, not at all concerned with the direction she had chosen to go with it. Frankly, he didn’t need to give his final okay, anyway. If anyone should be doing that, it was his father, but Gian wanted to be distanced from all this lest Cara stumble on something and ruin her great surprise.

Thing was, his father put all his faith and trust in Cella and her talent. He fully believed the woman would turn the penthouse into a modern space that Cara would adore and appreciate simply because it was Cella’s designs.

Marcus believed the same.

He didn’t need to give approval, either.

“What is it?” he asked when Cella stayed quiet on the other end.

“You’re … uh, interested in me, right?”

His brow furrowed, and he almost turned to look at the phone he was holding as though it would allow him to look directly at the woman on the other end. “I’m sorry?”