Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Though . . . I smile thinking about him. He’s stepped out of his comfort zone for me and played along when he was obviously suspicious. So credit goes to him for being a willing participant in this farce of a fairy tale this long. I really didn’t expect to be here on a Monday, preparing for my man to come home. But here I am.
My brother’s words return to replay in my head. “You fuck over the wrong guy, and it will come back on us tenfold.” I never intended to fuck anyone over, much less Warner. I did not end up here in malice. I ended up here under duress, worried for his life, and then stuck in this game with him. His other warning comes roaring back, “Don’t do anything stupid, sis.”
Too late for that. All I can do is make the most of a bad situation.
I didn’t tell Lorenzo everything, not how much Warner shows his affection for me, or how he’d buy me the world if I asked, as long as it’s under five million bucks. And I didn’t share that I’ve fallen for someone who is my opposite in almost every way, from standing in society to our careers, my little messes to his orderly, my ice cream to his gelato. Opposites attract, but they fall hard and fast as well. That’s Warner and me.
There’s no denying our chemistry. There’s only a mountain of untruths to overcome. I have my hiking gear ready whenever he says the word.
Since I know the workaholic isn’t coming home before five, I don’t have to rush, and I have time for a bath. I grab a giant candle from the coffee table. The ceramic bowl is a mix of blues, golds, and brown. The design is unique and fits the space, but it really needs to be used to be fully appreciated. I take it into the bathroom with me and light it before stripping my clothes off and twisting my hair up.
I made sure to pour myself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc before dipping into the sudsy hot water and submerging myself up to my shoulders in bubbles mounded high like whipped cream on a sundae. The water feels good, and my muscles release the tension from carrying those bags across New York. But as I sink in a little deeper, I miss Warner.
Although it feels good to get the grime of the city washed from my body, it’s not as fun as it was when I took a bath with him.
Sipping the wine, I close my eyes and relax, imagining Warner’s hand coming around to rest on my belly. The way his breath blew across my neck, causing bumps to pebble across my skin. I take another sip and then a gulp before sliding my hand under the water and between my legs. I’m tender, but it’s deliciously sore. He did that. He marked me as his, and I find that so incredibly titillating. I’ve never been a woman who dreamed of her Prince Charming coming to save her. I can save myself. But something about that man has me ready to tie myself to the railroad tracks and scream for him.
“Hey there.” That sultry voice runs through me like an awakening.
I open my eyes to see Warner leaning against the doorframe with a grin on his face. The vest is unbuttoned and flapped open, and his tie is loosened and hanging around his neck all crooked. Even his hair is a mess of brown strands going in all directions. He’s basically his usual gorgeous self, while my hair probably looks like I lost a fight against a pigeon today. And the pigeon won and built a nest.
I sit up suddenly, and water splashes over the sides while I try to tame hair that I don’t stand a chance of doing. “Hey there. You’re home early. I didn’t expect you until . . .” I shake my head after giving up the fight with the wild strands of my hair in this knot. “Actually, I didn’t know when to expect you home.”
“I’m early.” He chuckles. “Even Baker was surprised to see me. But I didn’t have a reason to rush home before.”
If I wasn’t already a melty mess from this man for how his mouth did me justice several times last night, I’d be a puddle on the floor after hearing him say that. I start to lift, but he says, “Stay. Enjoy your bath. I’m going to change clothes and watch some baseball.”
“I didn’t know you liked baseball.”
“There’s a player I like to watch. Called back to the Major League to play at thirty-five.”
I grin. “Does it give you hope?”
“Argh.” Covering his chest like he’s been shot, he slumps. “That hurt.” Thank God he laughs afterward. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of your old-man jokes.” He disappears into the bedroom.