Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 146605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
“Miss Hawthorne,” he greets me. “Don’t worry about your things. We’ll collect them and put them into your room.” His smile is warm and helps calm my nerves a bit. “I’m George. I run the Rose Point Manor.” He reaches his hand out.
“Call me Fawn. It’s nice to meet you.” I know it’s not this man's fault that I’m here, so I reach my hand out to shake his.
“Let me show you around a bit.” I follow him inside of the house. The doors closing with a thud behind me making me jump.
“Sorry.” George offers a smile.
“I can be a little skittish,” I admit. My eyes go to the giant chandelier in the entryway, to the marble flooring and the grand staircase. This whole place screams of money. Why does this man need me as his wife? I'm sure there is likely a line of women willing to call this place home, and he wouldn’t have to blackmail them. I have so many questions that are unanswered.
I swallow, my hand going to my neck. I suppose I don’t know what he looks like. My father did reassure me he wasn’t some white-haired old man. At least that’s something.
“You can give your tour later, George,” a deep voice rumbles, causing goosebumps to break out along my skin. I spin around to see two doors that now stand open. In the doorway is a freaking giant. He takes a step out and then another. My eyes lock with his. He has gorgeous gray eyes that remind me of a dark storm. Some people may find them intimidating, but I find them intriguing. He shifts, revealing more of himself to me.
His face is all hard edges and lines. The man looks as though he is made of stone. The scar that runs across the right side of his face only adds to this whole scary vibe he’s got going on. I bet if he smiles, he might actually be handsome. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’d still be a bit scary at his size.
“Sir.” George nods to the man.
“The priest is here. Follow me.” He doesn’t even greet me. Not a hello. Not nice to meet you. Nothing. He strides right past me without giving me a second look. I feel a moment of hurt when I know I shouldn’t. I stand there in a daze, my mind trying to catch up. Did he say that we’re doing this marriage thing right now? I thought I’d have time. That maybe I could talk him out of it or something. “I said to follow,” he barks. I jump, scurrying after him. George shakes his head like a disapproving parent.
We follow him down a long hall, stopping at the end. He pushes open a door. There in the center of the room is in fact a priest. My eyes travel around the rest of the room, taking every inch of it in. Every wall is covered in bookshelves. My fingers itch to grab one of the books off of them. I bet this place holds all the classics. I almost gasp out loud when I see that there is even a spiral staircase that takes you up to another floor.
“Wow.” I spin around. This room is a freaking dream. “I could live in here.”
“You will be living here,” the deep voice rumbles, causing a flutter to go up my spine. I turn back around, having gotten lost in the moment. “Here.” He points at the ground next to him.
“I’m not a dog,” I mumble as I move to stand there. George hides his laugh with a cough.
“No, you’re going to be my wife.”
I peek up at him through my lashes as the priest starts to talk. I can’t believe this is really happening.
“Your hand, Fawn.” Right. I lift my hand as he slips a ring onto my finger. My mouth drops open a bit when I get a good look at the ring. It’s a giant purple sapphire that is surrounded by diamonds. It’s beautiful. He hands me a simple gold band. I stare at it dumbfounded for a moment. “Put it on me,” he growls, holding his hand out.
My hand shakes as I grab a hold of his and then slip the ring onto his thick finger with my other. I have a fleeting sense of relief that I can’t explain. As though something inside of me has finally settled. Maybe I’m just happy that it’s over with. That has to be it. He grunts with satisfaction. The sound makes everything inside of me perk up. What the hell?
“You may kiss the bride.” Before I can register what is said, he grabs me, wrapping his arm around me as his mouth comes down onto mine.
Soft is my first thought. I didn’t expect for his lips to be soft. His mouth moves against mine until I find myself opening for him. The kiss becomes possessive as though he is trying to claim me. And for a few moments I let him do exactly that.