-CELINE’S POV-


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    I couldn’t believe Hunter had actually taken me to an art museum and a couple’s painting ss.


    These weren’t the kind of dates I had imagined a billionaire would choose….expensive restaurants, maybe the theater, something designed to impress rather than connect.


    But Hunter had somehow known exactly what would make me happiest, had seen past my modest exterior to the dreams I had buried beneath years of survival.


    The art museum had felt like stepping into another world, one where beauty existed simply to be appreciated.


    And watching Hunter watch me as I moved through the galleries had sent butterflies dancing through my stomach. He had looked at me like I was more fascinating than any masterpiece on the walls.


    But now, as we walked toward his car after the painting ss, I could feel the tension spreading out from him like heat from asphalt.


    His jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid, and he kept shooting dark looks back toward the building we had just left.


    “You know,” I said, swinging our joined hands gently, “being all grumpy like this makes you look like a big bad wolf.”


    Hunter stopped walking abruptly, turning to face me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Then his lips curved into that devastating smirk that never failed to make my knees weak.


    “A big bad wolf?” he repeated, his voice dropping to that low rumble that did things to my insides I wasn’t ready to explore.


    Before I could respond, he was moving, backing me against his car with fluid grace. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer until there was barely an inch of space between us.


    My heart started hammering against my ribs as he towered over me, his blue eyes dark with something that made my mouth go dry.


    “Maybe I should show you just how dangerous this wolf can be,” he murmured, his thumb tracing along my jawline.


    I had bought us ice cream cones from a vendor near the parking lot, hoping the sweet treat might lighten his mood. <fnbe0f> Latest content published on F?nd-Novel</fnbe0f>


    But now, with Hunter staring down at me like he wanted to devour me whole, I could barely remember how to breathe, let alone eat ice


    cream.


    His eyes dropped to my lips, and I unconsciously licked them, tasting the vani sweetness that lingered there.


    The simple action made Hunter’s pupils dte, and then his hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up.


    “You missed a spot,” he said softly, and then his tongue was at the corner of my mouth, licking away a drop of ice cream with deliberate slowness.


    The contact was brief, barely a second, but it sent electricity shooting through my entire body. My free hand clutched at his shirt, needing something to anchor me as heat pooled low in my belly.


    I could feel my cheeks burning, could feel my body responding in ways that made me want to hide behind my hands.


    Instead, I found myself looking around frantically, hoping no one had witnessed Hunter’s boldly intimate gesture. We were in a public parking lot, for heaven’s sake.


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    People could see us.


    “Hunter,” I whispered, my voiceing out breathier than I had intended.


    “What?” His thumb was still stroking my chin, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made me feel like I was melting from the inside


    out.


    “People are… they might be watching.”


    His smirk widened. “I don’t care, let them watch.”


    The possessiveness in his voice, the way he said it like he didn’t care who saw us together, made something flutter wildly in my chest.


    No one had ever imed me so openly before, had ever looked at me like I was worth showing off.


    The restaurant Hunter chose for dinner was the kind of ce I had only ever seen in movies–all soft lighting, pristine white tablecloths, and waiters who glided between tables like they were performing ballet.


    The menu was written in what looked like several differentnguages, and the prices weren’t even listed, which meant they were definitely more than I could afford.


    “Hunter, this ce is too fancy,” I whispered as the hostess led us to a corner table that probably cost more to reserve than I made in a week.


    “It’s perfect,” he said simply, his hand finding the small of my back as he guided me forward.


    Instead of sitting across from me like I had expected, Hunter slid into the booth beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.


    His thigh pressed against mine, and he draped his arm along the back of the seat, not quite touching my shoulders but close enough that I was hyperaware of his presence.


    When the waiter appeared…a distinguished older man with a kind smile….I could feel Hunter’s fingers brush against my shoulder de, a barely–there touch that made me shiver.


    “Good evening,” the waiter said. “Can I start you with something to drink?”


    I opened my mouth to order water, but Hunter spoke first. “We’ll have a bottle of the Chianti ssico, and thedy will need a few minutes to look over the menu.”


    The casual way he took charge, the way he called me “thedy” like I was someone worthy of reverence, made my heart skip.


    I wasn’t used to being taken care of like this, wasn’t used to having someone anticipate my needs.


    When the waiter left, I picked up the menu and tried to make sense of the borate Italian descriptions. Everything sounded wonderful, but I couldn’t pronounce half the names.


    “See anything that catches your eye?” Hunter asked, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned closer to look at my menu.


    I pointed to one of the pasta dishes, struggling with the pronunciation. “The… gnhi a… sorrentina?”


    “Gnhi a sorrentina,” Hunter corrected gently, his ent making the words sound musical. “Good choice. It’s potato gnhi with


    tomato sauce and fresh mozzare.”


    When the waiter returned with our wine, I managed to stumble through my order while Hunter smoothly requested something called osso


    13:00


    buco.


    <b>Aug </b>


    The waiter smiled warmly at both of us before disappearing again.


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    “You know,” Hunter said, turning slightly in his seat so he was facing me more directly, “your artwork today was incredible. That guy wasn’t wrong….you have real talent.”


    I felt heat creep up my neck at thepliment. “It’s nothing special. I just… I’ve always liked to draw and paint.”


    “It’s not nothing,” Hunter said firmly. “Why didn’t you go to art school? You clearly have the skill for it.”


    The question I’d been dreading finally came, and I found myself staring down at my hands, fidgeting with my napkin.


    “I was nning to. I had been saving money for years, working multiple jobs to afford the application fees and portfolio development. I even


    got epted to a program in the city.”


    “What happened?”


    “I found out I was pregnant with Caesar,” I said quietly. “And when I told my parents, they… they threw me out. Said I was a disgrace to the


    family, that I’d ruined my life and theirs along with it.”


    The silence that followed felt heavy, loaded with unspoken words. I could feel Hunter’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.


    This was the part where people usually offered empty chestnuts or changed the subject ufortably.


    But Hunter surprised me by taking my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine on the table.


    “Hunter,” I said quickly, needing him to understand something crucial, “if you’re thinking that you ruined my life by… by what happened between us that night, <i>you </i>didn’t. I need you to know that.”


    His eyebrows rose slightly, and I rushed to continue before I lost my nerve.


    “I love Caesar more than anything in this world. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And if I had to make the same choice again…if I could go back to that night and somehow know what would happen….I’d make the exact same decision. I would choose to fall in love with you again. I would choose to meet you again.”


    The words were out before I could stop them, hanging in the air between us like a confession I hadn’t meant to make.


    My cheeks burned as I realized what I’d just admitted….that I’d fallen in love with him that night, that despite everything, I didn’t regret it.


    Hunter’s eyes widened, and then a slow smile spread across his face, transforming his entire expression into something warm and


    wondering.”


    “Celine,” he said softly, his thumb stroking across my knuckles.


    Before he could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the intimate moment.


    “Hunter Reid? Well, I’ll be damned.”


    We both turned to see a tall, dark–haired man approaching our table with a confident smile. He was handsome in a polished way, wearing an


    expensive suit that screamed wealth and status.


    But there was something about his smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, something that made me instinctively press closer to Hunter<i>. </i>


    “Patrick,” Hunter said, his voice carefully neutral as he straightened in his seat. His hand tightened around mine, and I could feel the tension


    returning to his body.


    “What a surprise.”