The way back to the office has been very different. Lucas entwined his hand with mine, kissed my knuckles every chance he's had, and that incredibly sensual smile steals more of a sigh. He is insanely handsome, not to mention that every time he talks to me with that Italian accent, I lose my mind.

He parks the car safely from the company's entrance and looks at me "how do you want to make it Bella?" he asks me, and I love that word when he says it.

"What do you mean?" I ask, a bit confused.

Those eyes.

"Shall we tell your father now? Or do you want us to have dinner with him at your house and tell him the news?" he asks me, and I don't know how he will take all this.

I unbuckle my seat belt, sit on my side, and look into his eyes. "Lucas, I don't want my father to find out yet," I dare tell him. Now he is the one who looks at me quite confused.

"But why?" he asks, almost as if I insulted him.

I fully understand how he must be