Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“You ready for this?” Fiona asked me as we all three headed toward the main door of her and Brogan’s home.
“Not even a little bit,” I teased, but then glanced down at the dress, and changed my mind. “Maybe a little bit,” I said. “Thanks to this dress.”
Bristol beamed at me. “You make the dress, not the other way around. This is all you.”
I thanked her again, then we opened the door and stepped onto Brogan’s porch, stopping suddenly at the sight on the oversized driveaway.
Brogan stood in a suit, waiting outside his car, and Cormac held much the same pose outside his, but I barely noticed the two, not even when they whistled as Fiona and Bristol headed toward them.
Nope. I only had eyes for the stunner in a sleek black suit, a pop of dark blue glimmering beneath his jacket as he shifted in front of his Aston Martin. His mouth dropped when he looked up at me, standing on that porch and looking down at him like he was my very own James Bond and I was the Bond girl of his dreams.
Careful of the heels, I walked slow and steady toward him, my heart racing with each step.
“Evangeline,” he whispered, taking my hand the second I was within reach. “You look incredible.”
I grinned at him, glancing at Bristol, who winked at me as Cormac held open her door for her.
“You look amazing too,” I said, returning my attention to him.
He blinked down at me, almost as if he wanted to say more, but the words got lost.
“Are you ready?” I asked when he stood there for a few seconds, simply staring at me, those cobalt eyes taking in every inch of my curves.
Brogan and Cormac had already started their cars, but Maxim had arrived last so he was blocking their way out.
“Yes,” he said, blinking out of whatever thoughts had trapped him. He rushed around the car, holding my door open and making sure I was settled inside before he slid into the driver’s seat.
A short ride later, Maxim was pulling up to the attendee valet lane, which led directly to a red carpet packed with paparazzi on either side.
The confidence I’d built from the dress threatened to crumble at the sight of so many flashing cameras. Right now, they were shouting and snapping shots of Axel and Langley, who’d arrived shortly before us. Then Cormac and Bristol, with Fiona and Brogan heading out now, which meant—
“We’re next,” Maxim said, slowing the car to the drop-off spot. He put the car in park, ignoring the valet attendant waiting patiently outside his window. Instead, he reached across the gearshift and took my hand. “Say the word,” he said, and I blew out a breath. “One word. That’s all it takes. You get uncomfortable, we leave.”
I squeezed his hand, the warmth from his touch and his words melting into me and shaking away most of my jitters. The memories of how he’d asked me to this gala in the first place helped considerably. That man could shake worlds with his tongue. How could I not be okay when I had the most amazing man in the world on my arm?
“I’m ready,” I said, and he smiled at me before getting out of the car, handing the keys to the valet attendant, and hurrying to open my door for me.
I stepped out carefully to ensure everything stayed in its place, using Maxim’s offered hand as leverage. One high heel on the red carpet, and over a dozen flashes burst, making me jolt a little from the shock of it all. Maxim immediately slid his arm around my waist, walking slowly with me and posing for certain photographers he liked. He didn’t reach for my hand, didn’t elect to not touch me at all. No, he hooked me into his side and looked like he had no intention of ever letting go.
“Maxim! Maxim!” Calls of his name rang out from all directions, so much so I had no idea how Maxim was able to pinpoint a certain voice and point to them to allow them to ask a question.
I was just doing my best to smile without breaking my face or looking too nervous.
“Yes?” he asked, dropping his free hand back to his side.
“We have to know,” the female reporter asked, gesturing to me. “Is this the secret lucky charm you’ve been hinting at in recent interviews?” The reporter grinned at him, then me, seeming friendly and innocent enough.
This is fine. Whatever he says is fine. Breathe. Just breathe.
Maxim glanced down at me, and I couldn’t help but look up at him. Those eyes of his captured me in a way nothing else could, drowning out all the noise as I bathed in that look—one that seemed crafted especially for me.