Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
So why do I feel such a strong sense of possessiveness toward her when I slip the engagement and marriage rings on her finger? Why am I seeking her eyes out, wanting to look into their depths when earlier I didn’t want her to look at me at all? And why do I feel the vows I repeat to her to the very depths of my soul? Even though I tried to convince myself that we can get a divorce if this doesn’t work out, I know that there’s no way I would go through with it. The promises I’m making to her right now I plan to keep. At least I will as long as she lets me.
Her quivering hand as she only just manages to put my ring on reminds me that she doesn’t want me. And maybe she doesn’t feel the vows as strongly as I do. She’s freaking out, and the way her breaths are labored I’m almost worried she’s going to pass out. This is all just a business deal. That’s all. A business deal. It’s almost like a chant that is on repeat in my head. Call it what you want, but I’m guarding my heart because this little petite woman with the curves and innocent face has me wanting things I shouldn’t be wanting. Things I shouldn’t even be thinking about. Like spending forever with her in my arms. Before I can get further into my thoughts, I drag my eyes from hers.
My military training has my senses kicking at me that someone is watching us, and I look over at the window of the door.
Pretty boy is on the other side, watching us. I should have known that he wouldn’t just disappear, but I can’t say that I blame him. I don’t think I could walk away from her easily either. Obviously, he thought more of their meeting than she did.
My hands tighten on Mia, and she looks at me questioningly. Her shining blue eyes are clear as a cloudless summer sky. She’s beautiful and breathtaking, and as of right now, she’s mine. And I plan to claim her.
The possessive feeling returns, and I give in to it as the minister announces, “You may now kiss the bride.”
I’d planned to give her a simple kiss, but as my lips touch hers, that plan goes out the window. I give her such a deep, searing kiss that anybody watching knows that Mia belongs to me. I kiss her longer than I should, considering the fact that we just met and also the fact that she is probably scared to death of my gruff demeanor. But I can’t let her go. I wrap my arms around her, resting them on her back and tugging her close, fitting her against my hard body. The hard peaks of her nipples scrape across my chest. The moan either comes from her or me or the both of us, but it doesn’t stop me from sweeping my tongue in her mouth and tasting her before forcing myself to pull away before I embarrass her even further.
I stare down into her red face, and it’s deeply satisfying to find her eyes still closed after I end the kiss. She reaches up and touches her lips with her fingers as if she’s savoring the kiss we just shared. I completely understand, because I’m licking mine, wanting just another taste of her. She’s flushed, and when she opens her eyes to look at me, I can see the desire in their depths. She wants me. There’s no doubt about it. At least I know that even if she isn’t attracted to me physically, she is to our chemistry.
I don’t even have to look to know that pretty boy is no longer standing in the window. That’s right, Serge. She’s mine.
Chapter Five
Mia
I ask him a lot of questions once we are in his truck on the highway heading to a cabin he rented for a few days. It isn’t the honeymoon in Paris I’d imagined for myself in my youth, but sitting next to the only man who’s ever stolen my breath and made my body burn hot from a single kiss makes me not even care about what kind of honeymoon I’m going to have. A cozy cabin with Mason where we can get to know each other and spend our first Christmas together…. I’ll take it.
Mason doesn’t talk much. His answers are short, at least the ones he actually gives. He doesn’t seem to want to share very much of himself. Maybe he’s shy, and just needs more time.
He doesn’t ask me questions about myself but listens when I offer up my answers to a few of the questions I asked him. The drive seems long, and I hardly slept the last two nights I was so excited and nervous about coming and meeting and marrying a stranger. I could almost fall asleep in his truck if my nerves would let me.