Read The Billionaire's Forgiveness (A Winters Love Book 3) for Free Online Page B

dinners. He speaks very highly of you.” That gave me a warm feeling in my chest, to know that Aaron talked to other people about me was the highest compliment that I could receive.
     
    We were led straight back to a little table in one corner of the restaurant with a glowing red candle in the center of it. Aaron pulled out my chair and I sat down and took a look around. There were lush, green potted plants in large red vases sitting strategically around the room providing a sense of privacy to each table. The floor was a shiny red and white marble tile and the tables were made of thick, dark cherry wood. 1930’s style paintings framed in heavy ancient frames surrounded the walls. I was relaxed and happy and when the waiter came over he only made it better by saying, “This must be Miss Hurst?”
     
    “Yes, hello,” I told him.
     
    “Hello Madame,” he said. “Mr. Winters, you were right, she does take the breath away.”
     
    I looked at Aaron and smiled. He was amazing and I was so damned lucky. I can’t imagine what I ever did to deserve all of this.
     
    I ordered the grilled sea bass and Aaron got the steak tartare which looked amazing. We ate fresh bread while we enjoyed our meals and light conversation. I asked him if he’d ever been to Paris.
     
    “A few times,” he said. “It’s nice, but if I take you to Europe I would like to take you to Italy first.”
     
    “Why is that?” I asked, all aglow inside with the fact that he thought about taking me to Europe. It seemed like we were moving closer every day to the possibility of a lifetime together and I realized that I wanted that more than anything.
     
    “Because I find it much more romantic. The buildings are like works of art and there are flower boxes everywhere filled with these big flowers that just pop with color. They have music piping out of speakers along the streets and the gondolier’s can all sing as well as the cast of that play you just loved so much.”
     
    “Wow that does sound amazing. I went on a Gondola ride once,” I told him.
     
    “You did? Where?”
     
    I laughed and then told him, “Don’t laugh.”
     
    “Oh, you can laugh, but I can’t?”
     
    “Yep.”
     
    “Okay, I won’t laugh.”
     
    Rolling my eyes at him I smiled and said, “In Las Vegas. My girlfriend’s and I all have birthday’s one month apart. After the third of us, who was me, turned twenty one we flew out there for a weekend. It was so much fun. We took a gondola ride in front of the Venetian hotel. Our Gondolier’s name was Marco and he sang like an angel.”
     
    “You remember his name five years later? He must have been an amazing singer.” I felt my cheeks flush and he grinned and said, “You went out with him, didn’t you?”
     
    “Oh look, a dessert cart,” I said.
     
    “Uh oh, it must have been more than a one date thing,” he said. “She’s avoiding.”
     
    “I’m not avoiding, it’s just that old rule about what happens in Vegas staying in Vegas.”
     
    He threw his head back and laughed. “Did you marry him?” he said, catching me off guard.
     
    I got that feeling again, the instant guilt, nausea, racing pulse, feeling like it was hard to catch my breath every time anything was mentioned that reminded me of what I did or why. I realized that Aaron was looking at me funny. I’d sat there spacing out for too long and he was wondering why.
     
    “Yes,” I finally said. “We got married on one side of the street and then we drove to the other side and got a divorce. They have drive-through divorces there you know?” He smiled again and said, “If I ever get married, it will be forever.” My breath caught in my throat and I was thankful for the server. She came up right then and asked if we wanted dessert.
     
    “Share a chocolate mousse with me?” I asked him.
     
    “I love a girl with an appetite,” he said. We shared the dessert and the conversation of Las Vegas and marriage was forgotten. I was so