Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Maybe that should bother me too, but it doesn't. It only makes me ache for him.
How can I be needy and satisfied at once? It defies reason. But then Shep always has.
I let him unlock the door and leave the room. Then I smooth my dress, check my hair and makeup in the bathroom, wash my hands.
I was wrong about the dress. I'm the one out of my mind. But I was wrong about caring too.
I'm going to take his dare.
I'm going to get on my knees and beg.
But that isn't losing. It's winning.
I'm going to get what I want.
I'm going to get every single thing I want.
Chapter Seventeen
Jasmine
Steady feet, subtle smile, effortless expression. I smooth my dress. Hold my bag to my hip. Walk casually, like I've been in the bathroom perfecting my lipstick, not in the closet touching myself.
There are eyes on me. People are staring. There's something in my posture, my smile, my ruffled hair. Something that gives me away.
Do people know? Does it matter?
I suppose it's better for Shepard this way. It adds credence to the whole we're madly in love thing.
There. I approach the table. Try out an aloof expression.
Shep does nothing to hide his satisfied smile. He might as well scream that's right, I fucked my fiancée.
"Long line?" Ian looks to Jeff and raises a brow. The restaurant is quiet. And more than half the patrons are men. It's clear there isn't a long line.
Jeff's expression shifts to one of contemplation. He makes that hmmm noise. Not the parental one. The wow, that's a pickle one.
It's strange. Jeff seems like exactly the type of guy who sneaks away for illicit trysts. Is he really judging Shep for this?
No, it's not a judgmental look. It's a curious one. Like he's not sure what to believe.
Huh.
Strange.
There's a reason for this dinner. A reason why we're meeting with Jeff and Ian and not just Ian. Shep didn't ask me to dress up to step into Ian's helicopter.
Sure, those weren't dress up circumstances. But he didn't give me any sort of instruction or warning. He's not trying to convince Ian of anything.
Jeff, on the other hand…
I make a mental note to look up Jeffery Pace. To find out what he has to do with Shep. He's on the board of a company Shep wants to buy. Or wants to sell. Or wants to buy something he has to sell. He must be.
The timing is too suspect. It must have something to do with this whole plan.
Or maybe I'm thinking zebras when I should think horses. Shep doesn't need an elaborate reason to bargain with me. There are plenty of reasons why marriage is a good idea.
It raises his status, ends those rumors about his extra-curricular activities, marks him as a normal, family man.
The chance to have me under his thumb—
My head hurts. I sit. Sip another glass of mineral water. Focus on my food. A sizzling steak topped with chimichurri and pickled onions. Tangy beets with creamy goat cheese and nutty pistachios. Rich chocolate cake with fresh raspberries.
A perfectly steeped pot of black tea to go with it. A Russian Caravan that brings out the complexity of the chocolate cake.
With enough caffeine to keep me up all night.
I nod along as we finish dessert. The men talk business. Jeff says something gross, but no doubt well intentioned, in his mind, about how he likes a woman who eats, not one who's too skinny.
At once, Shep's face fills with fury. With a deep anger I barely recognize. It should scare me. It does scare part of me. But there's this other part that's thrilled, flattered, aroused even.
I place my hand on his. Motion don't. It's nothing. Not worth it. I hear worse all the time.
Men think they're entitled to comment on women's bodies. Especially women who work for them. Especially women of color who work for them.
"Does that mean you'll be paying the catering at our wedding?" I smile serenely, like I find his joke oh-so-amusing.
Jeff just laughs. "No, but I have a better idea. Have you ever had a personal tour of a chocolate factory?"
Shepard raises a brow what? He looks to Ian for help, but the charming Brit just shrugs.
"I can arrange it anytime. Before the wedding. As part of the honeymoon. Have you ever been to Paris, Jasmine?" he asks.
My heart skips at the thought of the city of lights. "Never."
"I think you'd prefer London, honestly," Ian says. "I know I'm biased, but between the tea and the theater—"
Theater in the West End. My nod is involuntary. "I'd love that."
"Did you just invite my fiancée to London?" Shep asks.
"Someone has to do it." He looks to Jeff. "You have Paris. I have London. Where will you sponsor, Shep? Rome? Madrid? Someplace the coffee is as dark as your soul?"