Chapter 8 - The Weight of Gold
The next morning brought a strange, fragile peace to the mountain.
Beatrice stood in the massive walk-in closet attached to the master suite.
Leo had insisted she take his room while he slept on the sofa in Lily's room.
The closet was filled with clothes that had clearly been purchased just for her.
There were no maid uniforms.
There were silk blouses, tailored slacks, and cashmere sweaters.
Every single tag displayed high-end designer names, and every single piece was perfectly tailored for a plus-size woman.
Beatrice carefully pulled on a soft emerald green dress that hugged her curves in ways she had always tried to hide.
She stared at herself in the full-length mirror.
For the first time in twenty-eight years, she didn't hate the reflection staring back at her.
The dress made her waist look delicate and emphasized the soft flare of her hips.
She looked like a woman who belonged in this house.
A knock on the bedroom door startled her.
"Beatrice?" Leo's deep voice called out.
"Come in," she said, stepping out of the closet.
Leo opened the door, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
His eyes swept over her, taking in the emerald dress, the way it clung to her chest, and the soft cascade of her messy hair.
He looked as though he had been punched in the chest.
"Good morning," Beatrice said nervously, her hands instantly flying to smooth down the fabric over her stomach.
"Don't," Leo said, his voice rough and tight.
He walked toward her, setting the coffee down on a bedside table.
"Don't hide yourself."
"I'm just... big," Beatrice blurted out, her insecurities suddenly bubbling to the surface.
"Victoria is so thin and beautiful, and I'm just..."
"Stop," Leo commanded, his hands coming up to cup her face.
He forced her to look at him.
"Victoria is a snake with empty eyes."
His thumbs traced her jawline, his gaze burning with a heat that made her knees weak.
"You are beautiful."
Beatrice shook her head, tears pricking her eyes.
"Men like you don't look at women like me."
"Men like me," Leo said fiercely, "spend their entire lives searching for a woman like you."
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them until her chest brushed against his.
"You are warm. You are fiercely protective. You are real."
His gaze dropped to her lips.
"You are exactly the kind of woman a king goes to war for."
Beatrice's breath hitched, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
She nervously licked her lower lip.
Leo groaned, a deep, primal sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
He lowered his head, his lips hovering mere millimeters from hers.
"Boss!" Mateo's voice shouted from the hallway downstairs.
Leo closed his eyes, cursing violently in Italian.
He pressed a hard, lingering kiss to Beatrice's forehead instead.
May you like
"Save that thought," he whispered against her skin.
He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving Beatrice entirely breathless.
