Chapter 32

THIRTY-TWO

H ave you ever woken up thinking that a dream was real?

How about when you think reality might be the dream itself?

I’d had a few of those moments in my short life. When Sofia was born.

And the morning after Xavier Parker, Duke of Kendal, said he not only loved the little girl we made together, the daughter he never knew he had, but that he also loved me too. Small, inconsequential, nobody Francesca Zola.

But not to him.

The light shining in through the window above my bed seemed exceptionally bright this morning. Warmer than usual, even for a gorgeous May Saturday where I was alone without the wake-up call of my daughter or the rustle of Matthew (who seemed to have stayed with Nina last night).

But it wasn’t the glow of spring or the house’s quiet outside that cast the world with such a perfect hue. It was the golden aura of the man surrounding me on my tiny twin mattress.

“Xavi,” I whispered, more to taste his name on my tongue than because I wanted anything.

“I’m awake.” His voice was scratchy but had the warmth of a fireplace of embers.

I just hummed and pressed my face into his chest. Is this how Rapunzel felt when the prince finally found his way up to her tower?

Who knew? Or even cared?

Right now, not I.

“Who are you pretending to be now?” Xavi wondered.

I smiled but shook the character away. I wasn’t trapped in an attic or a tower, or any other sort of place. I was in my own bed, in my own home, nestled with the man I loved. A man who had spent the majority of the night showing me in every way possible just how he loved me too.

Francesca Zola, this is your life.

“No one,” I said honestly. “Just me.”

I turned and set my chin on his chest, if only so I could look up and catch the light on the edge of his cheekbone.

He looked down. “If you tell me this can’t happen again, Ces, I’m more than happy to show you all over again why it must.”

I grinned against his pec. “It can’t happen again.”

“Minx.”

“Devil.”

For that, I was flipped onto my back, Xavier caging me against my little mattress. My bed frame shrieked in protest, and Xavier cringed.

“I need to get you out of this bed,” he said. “It’s too bloody small.”

“Why are you so tall?” I wondered as he nosed his way down my neck. “Aren’t Japanese people usually on the smaller side like me?”

“As it happens, the height is from the Parker side. My grandfather was apparently six foot six. But that’s a gross stereotype, Ms. Zola.”

“Yes, but isn’t it kind of accurate?”

He chuckled. “I did bang my head in parking garages in Japan. And shower nozzles only came to my chest.”

I giggled, imagining Xavier smashed inside a tiny shower.

“You laugh, but it was sort of miserable.”

“And you dealt with it for two years?”

He shrugged. “I had other things to focus on at the time. And it’s not like everything in New York fits either. I do miss my flat in London. I had everything designed to accommodate. The bath, the counters, the ceilings. Everything is tall enough.” He sighed. “Bliss.”

“Like Julia Child?”

For that, I received a flick on my shoulder.

“Ow!”

“That’s what you get for being cheeky.”

He tipped my chin up and delivered a kiss—also apparently retribution. What started quick, however, morphed into something slower, languid. People said a lot of things about Xavier Parker, but the man knew how to take his time and do a job right.

By the time he was done, though, another thought had entered my mind. One I couldn’t quite shake.

“So, you’ll go back, then?” I asked. “To London.”

“I…well, I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I thought I’d stay here for a bit. If the restaurant does well, it would make a bit of sense to open a few more up and down the East Coast. I could make New York my base of operations.”

“What about your other restaurants? Your estate? Your whole life back there?” Something told me that the history with his father and uncle wasn’t finished.

“I’ve access to a plane, haven’t I? I can run a bloody empire from anywhere.”

Any further protestations were interrupted by another thorough kiss.

“Ces,” he murmured.

“Mmm?”

“Shut up. I’m staying.”

Relief washed through me before I could stop it. Slowly, my lips curved into a smile against his.

“You going to say something?” he mumbled.

“You told me to shut up.”

Now his smile matched my own. “I’m glad you’re finally listening.”

After another brief but equally thorough kiss as the last, Xavier rolled me carefully into the corner of the bed, then reached his arms overhead, took hold of my headboard and gave an almighty stretch before curling up in a motion that made every bricked muscle of his abdomen stand out in high relief. I watched with overt appreciation as he stood, unabashed in his nakedness while he located his clothes.

“Stop staring,” he said without even looking.

“Can’t,” I said. “You take up the whole room.”

There was an audible snort. “Coffee? Or at least tea?”

“English breakfast, of course.” I shoved out of bed and grabbed my robe off the hook on the wall. “Give me five minutes, I’ll bring you a cup.”

I grabbed my phone to send Kate a quick text while I jogged downstairs to make us both some tea and hopefully locate something else in the pantry that wouldn’t completely earn Xavier’s disgust. Before I could even put on the kettle, however, my phone chimed.

“Xavi?” I called absently, walking back up the stairs as I flipped open my messages.

“What d’you need, babe?” He popped out of the bathroom dressed only from the waist down, hair slightly wet.

“Do you take cream or sug—what the hell?”

I couldn’t get out the question before my legs turned to noodles in complete and total shock.

“Ces!”

Xavier caught me just before I slumped onto the top stair.

“What the fuck just happened?” he sputtered, checking me up and down. For bruises? I wasn’t sure “ Are you all right?”

“I’m—this—look at this!”

I flipped my phone around to show him a text message notification from my bank containing a receipt of funds.

Xavier glanced at it, then back at me. “What’s that?”

“It’s from my bank. Someone just put over two hundred thousand dollars into my account!”

His big shoulders relaxed. “Oh, that,” he said flippantly, almost immediately getting up when he was sure I was stable. “I was wondering if you’d noticed, or if you just didn’t care.”

I was having a hard time speaking. I barely even noticed that he was still only clad in boxer briefs that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Xavi.” I made a wild grab for his arm before he could walk away. “Did you do this?”

He shrugged. “Few days ago, yeah. Must’ve just gone through.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me about it?”

He just rolled his eyes. “Well, I owe you about five years of child support. Consider that a start, yeah?”

I gasped. “Xavi, that’s more than I make in a single year. Or…four, actually!”

He nodded, unfazed. Then he frowned. Finally catching the concern on my face, he squatted down and sat next to me at the top of the stairs.

“Ces, for the last four years, you’ve been raising our daughter alone.”

“Yes, but…that was my fault.”

“It wasn’t only your fault. And anyway, I owe you a lot more than that,” he said. “Look at you. Look at where you are. I know your brother’s done a lot for the two of you, but can you honestly say you want to sleep at the top of a stairwell for the rest of your life?”

He gestured behind him to the humble area where we’d just spent the night together. I followed his hand. Honestly, I sort of looked at the space in a new light, considering everything we’d just done. That said…

I swallowed. “Of—well, of course not. But?—”

“Good. Because I don’t fancy spending another night in your single. I love you, babe, but I couldn’t feel my feet when I woke up this morning.”

I giggled. “I think your shoulders take up almost the entire thing too.”

“Exactly.”

We both chuckled, then, but his smile faded quickly.

“I want my family in a place where we can all stay together.” He tipped his head, looking for all the world like a nervous young man getting ready to ask a girl he liked to the movies. “What do you say?”

I frowned. “I…I’m not sure what you’re asking here.”

“It’s not rocket science, Ces. If I stay in New York, will you and Sof move in with me?”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I had too many questions. Where exactly would he want to live? How would we handle things like rent and rooms and furniture, not to mention the absurd amount of money sitting in my bank account? Xavier clearly wanted to take care of me and Sofia, but there was something about the arrangement that made me slightly uncomfortable. I wasn’t anyone’s kept woman.

To his credit, he managed to wait patiently while I thought things through. His eyes, though, were large, earnest, and oceanic.

But before I could answer, his phone rang.

That earnestness transformed into a scowl as he glanced at the number and answered it.

“Jag. I’m kind of in the middle of something. You mind if I call you back?”

I watched as the levity on his face slowly drained away.

“He what ?” Xavier’s eyes shuttered, and when they opened, looked stone cold. “Right. Yeah. I’ll let you know.” He ended the call, then stood without looking at me and yanked on a few articles of clothing. “I’ve got to make another call outside. Back in a moment.”

With a quick kiss to my cheek, he was gone.

I sat at the top of the stairs for a few more minutes, pondering my fate. But when he didn’t immediately return, I got up and went back downstairs to finish our tea and make some toast. Xavier probably wouldn’t eat it, but at least it was something to do while I tried to navigate the seismic turns my life was taking.

A bit later, Xavier came back inside, still shirtless under his tuxedo jacket, apparently uncaring that he had just paraded half naked in front of the entire neighborhood for the last fifteen minutes. I was sitting at the kitchen counter having a second piece of toast with butter along with the proper pot of tea I’d made and the two cups I’d set out quite proudly.

“Tea?” I started but stopped when I caught a look at his pale face. “Oh my God, Xavi, what’s wrong?”

He rubbed his brow so hard I thought he might take off some skin. “My uncle.”

“Your—oh, you mean your dad’s brother? The one who runs the estate?”

He nodded shortly but didn’t say anything more.

Please , I begged internally. He’s had so much loss. He doesn’t need any more .

“It’s not that,” he said. “He’s disappeared.”

I reared. “What? How?”

In an apparent daze, he could only shrug. “Don’t know. He’s just…gone. The housekeeper at Corbray Hall hasn’t seen him for a week, and no one at the London house has been able to find him either. He went hunting in Scotland, and that was three weeks ago. Without him, there’s no one to manage the estate. The tenants, the portfolio, the manor. All of it.” He looked up, brow crinkled with tension. And fear. “Ces, I have to go back.”

And just like that, my heart broke, both for me and for my daughter. This was a disaster of the first order. He couldn’t ignore it—that was for sure. No matter how flippant he was about his father’s holdings, I knew Xavier cared about them and his history. He wouldn’t just abandon them. Not after all they’d cost him.

But, of course, that meant a loss for us. Managing something like this could take months, maybe longer. Sofia would have to say goodbye to the father she’d only just gained. And I would have to give away the man I loved for the second time in my life.

“Francesca.”

I looked up, sucking in sharp breaths if only to stifle the tears that threatened. He didn’t need me to fall apart on him now. He had enough to handle.

But oh , it was hard.

Xavier reached out a big hand and gently, so gently, wiped away the tear that tracked down my cheek.

“Damn,” I whispered. “Oh, damn.”

“No, Ces. Listen,” he said softly.

I looked up, waiting for the death blow. He was going to break my heart all over again. I just knew it. “I want you to go with me. Please. Will you and Sofia come with me to London?”

I gasped. “You—you want me to move to London?”

“That’s right. Will you?”