Grounded Read Online Free PDF Page B

involuntarily at the thought. Had he really just admitted h e neede d this woman? He shook the idea away and tried to think of other things.
    He tried to focus on the job he needed to do in Rome, but he simply couldn’t concentrate with her so near. She was fresh and new and bright, and maybe that was what he needed most, he thought. After living for so long, both in his own world and in this one, there truly was nothing new under the sun. He took everything for granted, but for Patty, everything—all the experiences he was sharing with her—was brand new and her excitement was rubbing off on him.
    He took a deep breath as he followed her into the limo. Her sweet little ass was right there in his face and he could’ve kissed it, had he taken a notion to. So, if it wasn’t his mother’s doing, and more than a week of fucking his brains out hadn’t cooled his desire for her, what was causing him to feel this way? He refused to believe himself capable of any feelings beyond the purely physical, but he was at a loss to explain the emotions rolling around inside of him.
    If he’d only found himself physically attracted to her, he could have dealt with his desires easily enough. He kne w exactl y how to handle his physical urges, and lust was a familiar feeling, an old friend he liked very much. But these other emotions… he didn’t even know what to call them. The thoughts running through his head were a jumbled mess, and they all centered on Patty.
    At the hotel, he showed Patty to her rooms, and then went to his own. Putting his suitcases down, he lay back on the bed and stretched. A single door connected their suites and he could hear her moving around, most likely unpacking and exploring every nook and cranny. He climbed from the bed and went to the door. He knocked, and she opened it, a huge grin on her face. He couldn’t help but smile.
    "This hotel is awesome!" she exclaimed. "Come here." Grabbing his hand she pulled him to the open French doors and out onto the balcony. "Look at that. The Vatican! And there’s St. Peter’s! Can you believe this?"
    Her face glowed with excitement, and her eyes sparkled with delight. This is what true joy looks like, he thought. Had he ever known that feeling himself? Had he ever looked out at the horizon and been filled with wonderment and excitement at what he saw? Had he ever been happy just t o b e ? Happy with what he had? With what was around him? The answer to those questions came quickly enough. No. He’d never in his life been so contentedly happy. Period. Oh, there were moments of happiness, to be sure. But every moment of happiness he’d ever had was because of something he had acquired, whether a work of art, a new yacht, or a new woman. He’d never been truly happy just being who he was.
    "It’s quite a sight," he agreed, though she didn’t notice he wasn’t looking at the scenery. "Tomorrow we’ll have a meeting with the curator of ancient artifacts, then afterwards, we’ll take a tour of the Vatican, and St. Peter’s, if you’d like."
    "That would be wonderful. I really can’t believe all of this, Dion. Thank you," she said, and standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. He just stood there - mute. Floored by her goodness, by her innocence, and by her utter decency.
    "You’re welcome," he said softly. He was uncomfortable as hell, but she didn’t seem to notice because she was back at the railing, leaning over it, squealing with innocent delight. For a moment, he longed to do nothing more than take her in his arms and share in her delight . Shit, what the hell is wrong with me ? Taking a few calming breaths he reined in his emotions, clamped down on them with unshakeable control, and cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should go to out to dinner? You must be hungry by now."
    She turned back to him, her face flushed with excitement, and he felt his implacable control begin to slip.
    "I would love to," she said. "Give me thirty minutes to get