Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Aston: Come away with me again tonight.
I loved how his tone was more demanding than questioning, as though he had no doubt that I wanted to go out with him. Which was fair because I didn’t need to stop to think about my reply.
Me: What time are you picking me up? And what should I wear?
Aston: 7. Something slinky that shows off your curves.
It was a good thing that Melanie and I wore the same size because her closet had better options than mine. I had plenty of clothes appropriate for the museum, a few conservative, little black dresses, and lots of comfy stuff to wear around the apartment. But nothing sexy like the gown I borrowed for the gala.
Me: Where are you taking me?
Aston: You’ll see.
Me: Another surprise date?
Aston: Bien sûr.
I could hear his deep voice in my head, that sexy French accent sending a delicious shiver down my spine. Confessing how much I loved surprises was an excellent decision since he’d used that knowledge to his full advantage over the past week. I’d received a perfectly wrapped gift each day—anything from an orchid the exact color of the gown I’d been wearing when we met to a sketch he’d drawn of me that was more thoughtful than any present I’d ever received. And he’d refused to tell me where we were going on any of our dates, dazzling me with access to the Atlanta art scene that I’d never have been able to gain on my own, even if I’d been living here for a decade.
Me: See you in a few hours.
I rushed through the rest of my work and raced out the door only minutes after the museum closed. Melanie was getting ready to serve at some high-society event when I barged into her bathroom and asked, “Can I borrow a dress?”
She met my gaze in the mirror and wagged her brows. “Another hot date with Mr. TDH?”
“Yeah.”
She jerked her chin toward her bedroom. “My closet is your closet. Grab anything you’d like.”
“Thanks.” I gave her a quick hug before whirling around to dash into her room.
I had an hour and forty-five minutes to get ready, and I used a good chunk of it rifling through her hangers, trying to find the perfect dress. I was so absorbed in my search that I barely noticed when she left.
I finally landed on a green slip dress that was bias-cut satin, which gave the material a clingy, fluid fit that hugged my body without being too tight. With spaghetti straps, an open back, and a slit on my right thigh, it made me feel incredibly sexy.
I was just finishing my makeup when there was a loud rap of knuckles against the front door. Still barefoot, I hurried through the living room to let Aston into the apartment.
His gray eyes skimmed the length of my body, heating with masculine appreciation. “Tu es magnifique.”
Luckily, I didn’t need to speak French to understand the compliment, although he’d taught me a few more phrases. Mostly dirty ones that I was hoping to hear him whisper in my ear when we were in bed together at some point. “Merci.”
I stepped aside to let him pass by me, then turned to grab a pair of strappy heels in the shoe rack to the left of the door. When I bent at the waist to slide them onto my feet, he took them from me and crouched down, his hand wrapping around my ankle. “Allow me, petite miette.”
I felt like a fairy-tale princess as he buckled the straps at the back of my feet, goose bumps spreading up my calf at his gentle touch.
“Thank you.”
He straightened and flashed me a sexy smile. “My pleasure.”
I grabbed my purse, and he locked my door before leading me to the black car waiting at the curb in front of my building. After helping me into the passenger seat, he circled the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s side. The engine hummed quietly as we wound through the streets of Atlanta, Aston’s fingers laced through mine. I didn’t ask where we were going since I wanted to enjoy the surprise.
Ten minutes into our drive, he tugged on a lock of my hair. “Trust me?”
Despite the whispers of his shadowy affiliations, I felt safe with Aston. “Absolutely.”
Masculine satisfaction shone from his gray eyes as his lips curved into a pleased smirk. “Bien.”
He pulled off to the side of the road and removed his tie, lifting it to my eyes.
Quirking a brow, I asked, “You’re going to blindfold me?”
He nodded. “Oui, the location of our date is a well-kept secret that very few know.”
I’d meant it when I said that I trusted him, so I turned my head so he could slip the tie over my eyes and knot it in the back. Losing that sense only heightened my others, making me even more aware of Aston’s expensive and darkly masculine scent.