Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You asked him?” she asks, sounding surprised as she turns to look at me. I look at the black dress she has on that hugs her body. It’s strapless and has been driving me crazy all night. When my secretary gave me pictures of the dresses to pick out for Emilia, this was one of the first ones I chose. I knew it would be beautiful on her. The problem is, I didn’t realize how sexy she would look in it—or how fucking irresistable it would be to kiss her neck and bite the exposed skin along her shoulders. That’s the main reason I put my suit coat over her shoulders. I told her I didn’t want her to get cold. The truth was every man in the auditorium was eye-fucking her and I was getting tired of making notes of who I was going to have to kill.
“I’m getting ready to leave the country for a few days. I can’t seem to talk you into going with us, so I wanted tonight to be special.”
“You could have asked me what I would have liked to do tonight,” she points out.
“What would you have said?”
“I would have said I’d rather spend the evening at your place, watching a movie, and getting to know one another. Heck, maybe just eating takeout.”
“You’re a little overdressed for that, sweetheart.”
“Because you told me you were taking me to the concert. It would have looked weird to show up in jeans and a T-shirt,” she laughs, giving me her first real grin of the night.
“I thought women liked dressing up and going out.”
“I’m not most women.”
“I’ll make note. Although, I’m not sure it’s smart to take you back to my place.”
“What does that mean?”
“If I take you home, it’s going to be hard to keep my hands off of you.”
“I wouldn’t complain.”
“Not until my ring is on your finger, Em.”
She doesn’t reply, but I notice she looks down at her finger—her barren finger. I’ve failed there. In my defense, there was a part of me hoping Maxwell would change his mind about this wedding. I don’t know how to be a married man. Those thoughts flew out the window after a small taste of Emilia.
“Then, I guess, you should take me home.”
“Not quite yet. I do have one last surprise.”
“You do?”
“We haven’t had dinner yet and the night is still early.”
“Oh.”
“I think you’ll like it,” I tell her when she goes quiet.
“I’m sure I will.” She gives me a small smile and turns to look out of the passenger window.
I watch her closely, while she’s not paying attention. There are many layers to this woman. She’s unlike anyone I’ve met. She basically described what I’d prefer to do every night. I was trying so hard to impress her and make sure she knew I fit into her world despite being an outsider for the most part. Now, I find that Emilia might be the first person I’ve met who could like the real me. The kid in the system who only had Callan and just wanted to make sure the two of us had a good life. Maxwell knows how I began, but I’m certain no one else does. For the first time, I’m tempted to freely share that story.
It doesn’t help that I feel like I’ve disappointed Emilia tonight. I get the distinct feeling she didn’t enjoy the orchestra. That probably means this is Maxwell’s ideal night, not his daughter’s. I really need to learn more about the woman who is going to be my wife.
“The beach?” she questions, turning to look at me.
It’s then I realize that the car is coming to a stop. “I told you I had a surprise.” I pull her to me, lifting her chin so that I can look into her eyes. “We don’t know each other well enough yet, but I need you to know that despite how this marriage came about. I will do everything I can to make sure you’re happy.”
“Will you be happy?” she asks, her forehead wrinkled.
Her question surprises the hell out of me. Is she really worried about if I’m happy or not?
“Of course. I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I weren’t sure about it.”
She studies my face. I get the feeling that I answered wrongly. Fuck, why does it feel like I’m being measured in her eyes tonight and coming up short?
My driver opens the door and I get out and help Emilia. I lead her down the boardwalk to the private cabana that I had reserved. I hear her gasp as we get there. It’s a wooden framed structure in dark oak. There are lights with a bluish tint that shines over the flat floor and built-in double lounger. The lounger is truly like a bed that has soft, white pillows that match the flowing curtains that are flapping with the ocean breeze. Along the side is a large tray with two meals covered with cloches, and an ice bucket with champagne and two glasses.