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I chuckle. “Yes, please. All that jewelry shopping left me exhausted. And I didn’t even spend a pound.”
“Get used to it, Camila. I’m going to spoil you rotten,” he says, placing a kiss against my knuckles.
I’m not sure if I can ever get used to this. Vicente seems so certain, so steady.
But me? I’m just holding on, hoping everything turns out for the best.
Chapter 19
Vicente Godoy
Camila and I haven’t done anything exciting today, other than that kiss I can’t get off my mind. But today has been one of the best days of my life. Who knew doing mundane things with an amazing woman would feel so right.
I drive us back to the office—I figured Camila would feel comfortable here. Since I gave everyone the day off, it's an empty space that’s not my home.
“What are we doing here?” Camila asks with a frown as I pull inside the car park.
“I thought it’d be a neutral space for us to talk. We’ll order lunch,” I say as I get out of the car and jog around to help her out.
“Sounds good.” She places her hand in mind, and I pull her closer to me, our entangled hands resting around her waist.
We ride the lift in silence. Her breathing is steady, hitting my chest in a constant rhythm. I imagine how it would feel to have that breath against my neck as I take her against the walls of this lift. Would she like it rough? Or would she want me to take my time, peeling off her clothes in the office, like I’m unwrapping a present?
Fuck.
What if she doesn’t want to consummate the marriage?
There’s no way she’s not attracted to me—I’ve seen how she stares at my lips, hunger in her eyes. The same hunger I feel for her.
“Vicente?” she says, taking me out of my thoughts.
“Yes?” I blink, realizing we’re already in my office.
“Do you want me to order lunch?”
I shake my head. “Why don’t you take a seat on my sofa and relax? I’ll take care of lunch.”
I wink, and she makes her way to my sofa.
Good girl.
I loosen my tie and unbutton my vest. Why do I dress as if I have a stick up my arse? I miss the simplicity of running the vineyard. I dressed way more comfortably there.
After ordering Chinese food, I make my way to the sofa where Camila is sitting, furiously typing on her phone.
Once I take a seat next to her, she smiles as she finishes typing then puts her phone away.
“Who were you texting?” I ask, and she raises a brow. “We’re getting married, I deserve to know if there’s a man who will try to claim you at the town hall.”
She bursts out laughing, and now it’s my turn to frown.
“Vicente, who would have thought that you had it in you to be funny,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes.
Ouch. Am I really that grumpy?
“I texted Ava’s babysitter to let her know that I’d pick her up,” she admits.
I feel like an idiot. Of course she was handling Ava’s stuff. She already told me she hasn’t been in a relationship since Ava’s father passed. Why did I have to let my jealousy show?