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Isabella Patricelli stood inside the entrance to
Belle On The Bend and watched the couple emerge from a silver BMW. They were in
their early- to mid-thirties and quite attractive. Their luxury car along with
their designer clothes shouted that they were well-to-do if not wealthy.
She watched the man straighten the cuffs of his gray jacket. She guessed Armani.
Why he would be wearing a suit on a vacation, she couldn’t imagine.
She sighed. They didn’t look happy. Even from fifty feet away, she could feel
the sadness seeping from their souls.
She had her work cut out for her with this couple.
Summoning a bright smile, Belle stepped out on the wide veranda. “Good morning.
Welcome to Belle On The Bend.”
The couple climbed the five steps toward Belle. She couldn’t help but notice the
man didn’t take the woman’s hand or arm to help her up the steps. Simple common
courtesy dictated that he at least offer to assist her.
“Good morning,” he said, still unsmiling. “I’m Isaac Olvera. This is my wife
Maggie.”
Belle turned toward Maggie. Petite, short red hair, huge green eyes, ivory skin.
She was the perfect companion to her husband’s dark hair and olive coloring.
“I’m so pleased to meet you. Please come in.”
“Our bags?” Maggie asked.
“Dolan will get them for you,” Belle said as she led the way inside the mansion.
“He’s officially my maintenance man, but he does a little of everything around
here. Sometimes I wonder how I ever got along without him.”
Belle stopped and faced her guests when she heard Maggie’s soft gasp. Eyes wide
and lips parted, the lovely redhead turned in a slow circle. Belle smiled to
herself. Visitors to the mansion often stared at the antique furnishings.
Stepping into Belle On The Bend was like stepping back in time one hundred years
and fifty years.
“It’s incredible,” Maggie whispered. She clasped her husband’s arm. “Oh, Isaac,
isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yeah.”
Belle’s eyes narrowed at Isaac’s bored tone. This one would definitely take a
lot of work. She looked at Maggie in time to see the hurt in her guest’s eyes
before Maggie released her husband’s arm and lowered her gaze.
A chirping sound from Isaac’s pocket produced the most response Belle had seen
from him since he arrived. He slipped his hand into his slacks pocket and drew
out a thin wireless phone.
Maggie frowned. “Isaac, you promised no business.”
“This won’t take long.” He turned and headed toward the entrance, opening the
flip-phone as he walked. “Yeah… No problem. I wanted you to call… Did you get…”
The rest of his words were lost when he stepped outside. Sympathy welled up
inside Belle. Maggie looked so lost and alone.
Isaac wasn’t the first husband who’d brought his wife here, then put business
first.
“Why don’t we go into the parlor for something to drink while your husband
finishes his call?”
Maggie gave her a weak smile. “Thank you.”
Belle led the way through the foyer and into the parlor. “I have regular or
raspberry iced tea, soft drinks, or I can serve you lemonade if you’d prefer
it.”
“The raspberry tea sounds wonderful.”
“Please sit down and make yourself comfortable while I prepare your drink. Sugar
or lemon?”
“Just lemon.”
“I have to drink my tea sweetened. I’m definitely a sugarholic. I detest any
artificial sweetener.”
Her teasing earned Belle another small smile from her guest. Out of the corner
of her eye, she saw Maggie perch on the edge of a pale blue wingback chair in
one of the sitting areas. The redhead continued to study her surroundings, as if
trying to absorb the different colors, textures, and styles of the furniture and
furnishings.
“The mansion is beautiful, Belle.”
“Thank you.” Belle added a plate of her cook Lottie’s Snickerdoodles to the
tray. “I enjoy living here very much. And I enjoy sharing it with others.” She
joined Maggie in the sitting area, placing the tray on the small round table
between the two chairs.
“How long have you lived here?”
Taking the second chair, Belle crossed her legs before handing Maggie her tea.
“Longer than I want to admit.”
Maggie sipped her drink. “Mmm, very good. I don’t think I’ve ever drunk
raspberry tea.”
“Try the Snickerdoodles. My cook is incredible. No one goes hungry around here.”
Biting her bottom lip, Maggie eyed the cinnamon-topped cookies on the tray with
longing. “I shouldn’t. I’ve put on some weight and I’m trying to lose it.”
Belle saw a lovely woman with shapely curves, not someone overweight. Maggie
didn’t say it, but Belle sensed it was Isaac who wanted his wife to lose weight.
The jerk.
“You’re on vacation. You have to eat things you wouldn’t normally eat. It’s a
law.”
Maggie giggled. The sound made her appear much younger than thirty-something.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to break any laws.” She chose a small cookie from the
tray and bit into it. A look of bliss crossed her face. “Oh, my.”
Belle smiled. “Lottie’s desserts are legendary. Wait until you taste her peach
cobbler.”
“You’re determined to make me gain back the seven pounds I’ve lost.”
With a shrug, Belle picked up a cookie. “I have almost three hundred acres of
gardens and walking trails if you want to exercise.”
“I’d rather exercise another way,” Maggie muttered, looking into her glass of
tea.
Belle heard her, but pretended she didn’t. “Excuse me?”
A lovely blush bloomed in Maggie’s cheeks. “Nothing.” She raised her gaze back
to Belle’s face. “Tell me more about the mansion. Is all the furniture Rococo
Revival?”
Recognizing the obvious change of subject, Belle sat back in her chair. “You
know antiques.”
Maggie shrugged. “I work part-time in an antique store in Dallas.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
An excited light filled her eyes. “Very much. I love antiques. All the
incredible curves and carvings, the wood, the simple beauty of the pieces.
Isaac…” The mention of her husband made the light disappear. “He doesn’t care
for antiques. He’s more into modern things.”
“There’s no reason why you can’t have a mixture of both. I do. Yes, most of the
furniture is Rococo Revival, but I also have pieces from different eras,
including modern.” She grinned. “I like to be different.”
Maggie returned her grin. “I think that’s called ‘eclectic.’”
“Or ‘wishy-washy.’”
Maggie’s laughter delighted Belle. She sensed there was entirely too little
laughter in the lovely redhead’s life.
Belle planned to do everything in her power to change that.
After setting down her glass of tea, Maggie looked at her watch. “I wonder
what’s taking Isaac so long.”
“Business sometimes takes longer than one expects.”
“That’s true.” She sighed deeply. “Business always takes longer than I expect.”
An anguished look crossed Maggie’s face, as if she knew she’d said something she
shouldn’t have. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say something so personal.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk.”
Maggie shook her head. “Thank you, but I’d rather not.”
“Then I won’t push. But please know I’m here if you need me for anything. I’m a
very good listener.”
“I appreciate your offer.”
Knowing she’d get nothing further from her guest now, Belle set her glass on the
table. “Would you like me to show you to your suite? I’m sure your husband will
be back shortly.”
“Yes, please. I’d like to get settled.”
Belle led the way out of the parlor and up the wide, curved staircase. “I’ve put
you and your husband in the General Suite. It’s my largest room. The view of the
gardens is breathtaking.”
At the end of the hall, Belle opened the double doors to the suite and stepped
aside so Maggie could enter the room first. Her guest’s “Oh, my!” made Belle
smile.
“Do you approve?”
“What’s not to approve?” As she had done in the foyer, Maggie turned in a slow
circle. “It’s simply beautiful.”
“I’ll give you the chance to look around. Please let me know if you need
anything.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“I’ll bring your husband up when he comes back in the house.”
Maggie dipped her head and smiled. Belle left the room, closing the doors behind
her.
* * * * *
Maggie’s smile disappeared as soon as Belle
closed the doors. She sighed heavily. She’d managed to get her husband to Belle
On The Bend, but she’d lost him to his business within two minutes of getting
here.
She hated that damn business a bit more each day.
She couldn’t help but be proud of Isaac for turning a failing advertising firm
into the third most successful agency in Texas. As CEO, he overlooked every
detail of his company, often working up to eighteen hours in a day.
If only he showed that much concern for her.
Crossing the spacious room, Maggie opened the French doors and stepped out onto
the small balcony. Acres of oak trees and various types of flowers spread out
before her. The majestic sight barely registered in her brain. She’d insisted on
this vacation, insisted she and Isaac needed time alone without his business and
without their two sons. At eight and six, her sons had been perfectly happy to
stay with her parents for a week. Their grandparents thoroughly spoiled Taylor
and Mason, which was perfectly fine with the boys.
She missed them already.
But this time was for her and her husband, for the two of them to rediscover the
love that existed when they married each other ten years ago.
And hopefully, they’d rediscover the passion, too.
Closing her eyes, Maggie tilted her head back and released a deep breath. It had
been so long since she and Isaac had made love. She honestly couldn’t remember
the last time they’d had sex. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d
seen Isaac naked. They used to shower together every day. Seeing his lean body
with soapy water flowing over it had always made her want him. It hadn’t been
unusual for him to take her against the slippery wall, or for her to drop to her
knees and suck his hard cock into her mouth. She’d always loved bringing him to
orgasm orally.
He used to love doing the same thing to her.
A thirty-two-year-old man shouldn’t have lost complete interest in his wife.
Yes, she’d gained a few pounds, but she wasn’t morbidly obese. In fact, she
liked her new curves. Her weight had settled in her breasts and buttocks, giving
her a rounded, womanly shape that turned men’s heads. Several men had given her
a second look when she walked by them.
Why didn’t her husband find her desirable anymore?
Maggie stepped back into the room and closed the French doors. She stood with
her back to the doors and studied the beautiful room. The sight of all the
antiques made her breath catch. The tall, four-poster bed made of rosewood. The
golden silk canopy over the bed. The thick, diamond-patterned rug beneath her
feet. The fringed lamps on either side of the bed. The seating area with table
and two curved-back chairs. The large fireplace. The landscape oil paintings.
Everything pleased her. Everything made her long to have a touch of old in her
modern home instead of the contemporary glass and chrome Isaac preferred.
Maggie knew she’d done it to herself. She’d always been meek, had always left it
up to Isaac to make the important decisions. After ten years of marriage, she
didn’t know how to change that.
She didn’t know if he’d accept it if she did try to change anything.
Maggie loved her husband. She remembered the loving, tender man she’d married.
The CEO was a stranger.
A soft knock on the door surprised her. Maggie crossed the floor and opened the
door to see a handsome, dark-haired man on the other side.
He smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Olvera. I have your luggage.”
Maggie couldn’t remember his name, but she returned his smile. “Please come in.”
He rolled in a large cart bearing her and Isaac’s four pieces of luggage. “Where
would you like it?”
“On the bed will be fine.”
Maggie watched him effortlessly lift each piece of luggage and place it on the
bed. She couldn’t help but notice the shift of muscles in his arms beneath his
blue T-shirt, or the way his faded jeans fit so nicely over his firm buttocks.
She sighed. She really missed sex with her husband.
Muted voices made Maggie turn toward the open door. She saw Belle and Isaac
walking down the hall toward her. Seeing her husband made her heart flutter and
her womb clench. He was even more handsome now than when she’d married him ten
years ago. The tiny laugh lines beside his eyes gave him character, depth. The
few silver strands mixed in with his black hair at his temples made him look
incredibly sexy.
Somehow, she had to get her husband back. She couldn’t keep living in limbo.
She refused to keep living in limbo.
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