Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I sold the option for that too, a single season for streaming.
And at the premiere, I wore another fantastic dress.
But as was Battle’s magic, as ever, the photographers went away with essentially nothing.
Battle did not get into Harry and Scotty’s shit for not doing what it would be impossible for them to do: somehow intuit danger on a several hundred-acre estate and move to handle it.
He already knew there were vulnerabilities in their security. Namely if someone wanted to take the long trek sidling through the property of one of the attached farms owned by the duchy that didn’t have tall fences protecting them from access to the parkland, outbuildings and the big house.
This being what Chelsea’s hired stalker did.
What Battle did do was augment the security so there were more cameras monitored by the company he contracted with for the front gate.
He boosted this by getting me my own dog who he left with me at The Downs, and who just stayed at The Downs even if I wasn’t there, in order for that pooch to keep alert for whoever Battle loved who was there.
It was an Old English Sheepdog. I allowed Prue to name him.
She chose Crispin.
Don’t ask me why.
But Crispie he became.
And I adored him.
We all did.
Including Bartholomew.
Battle also made a change to the studio.
He had curtains added on the windows.
And as I worked on my next book, the one after that, and the one after that (you get me), we utilized them.
Often.
We also put a fair effort into besting his challenge to have sex in every room of The Downs.
But with so many people around, this wasn’t easy.
That said, there were so many people around.
And that was awesome.
Rebecca did not contact Battle, or any of them again.
Until years later, when she was dying.
Because they were who they were, all four of them swallowed down their pain and anger and went to Greece to visit and say goodbye.
Obviously, all the partners went with.
She was beautiful, even at the end of her decline.
And I was nice to her face.
But I was glad to take my man home.
Chassie stayed with her the two weeks it took to reach the inevitable end.
And because they were who they were, they buried her next to their father in the family plot.
Atlas would wish this, so there was that.
But Rebecca would feel entitled to it, and quite frankly, that sucked.
Though life was life, you couldn’t have everything your way.
I wondered if Rebecca learned that in the end, with only one daughter near her side, and her being there out of duty only.
Regrettably, I doubted it.
As I was in on the whole ceremony to add Harmony and Charlie to the house forever, I got over my fear of the ballroom.
Truth, it wasn’t a room that was ever used, outside the weddings we seemed to keep having at the house.
But I never saw the lights or the ghosts again.
Further, the cats never acted weird or tripped me into being where they wanted me to be (though, they did trip me, just because they’re cats).
In fact, nothing weird or supernatural happened at all.
And call me crazy.
I was kind of bummed about that.
I used some more of my millions to buy myself some shit-hot riding breeches and boots.
Battle approved, though I thought he approved more of the fact that, after we rode, he got to peel them off me.
I got really good at riding.
So good, Battle and I rode frequently.
Sometimes we did it alone. Sometimes with Tempie and/or Hamish, Prue, Chassie and/or Christian (François didn’t ride).
I tried to shoot a shotgun, but that bitch put an angry bruise on my shoulder and nearly knocked me flat on my ass (Battle warned me about the kickback, but damn).
That bruise was visible for over a week.
No thank you.
Though, I enjoyed watching my guy decimate the clay pigeons flung through the air.
It was all kinds of hot.
An aside: François might not ride, but the dude was hell on wheels shooting clay pigeons.
It was almost as fun to watch Battle shoot them with the way Prue would cheer and clap every time her hubby hit the mark.
Seriously, they were so cute together.
Battle took me back home to The States repeatedly.
My grandparents loved him.
Solène loved him for me.
Alex thought he was the shit.
And Matty and Rayray absolutely adored their Uncle Battie.
They all came out for Battle’s and my wedding.
Another small affair in the gardens.
My gown was gorgeous.
My groom was way more beautiful.
Solène walked me down the aisle.
But Bartholomew went with us.
When the pastor told Battle he could kiss the bride, he did, twice.
First, he kissed my freckles.
And only after that, he kissed my lips.
Prue’s wedding present was another abstract portrait.
This one of me.
It was of my profile, my hair pulled back in a soft chignon.
The only thing that was truly distinct was my face.