Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“I’m going to go down and talk to Jacqueline about the house across the street, so when you’re done, I’ll just meet you downstairs.”
“Give me ten minutes, and I’ll go with you.”
“It’s okay.” I back away from the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Elora,” he calls, but I ignore him as I grab my purse and leave the room, breathing a sigh of relief.
13
ROMAN
40.8021° N, 124.1637° W
Sitting up in bed with my laptop open in front of me, I’m only half looking over the document I need to sign. My attention is distracted by Elora, who’s been hiding in the bathroom since we got back to the room after walking around town and having dinner at one of the restaurants by the water. She was her normal, relaxed self while we were out, but the moment we got back to the room and were alone again, she immediately started to fidget. Not long after that, she said she was going to shower, then she locked herself in the bathroom, where she’s been for the past hour.
If I didn’t think that her being nervous was so fucking cute, I’d be annoyed with her for hiding from me.
Glancing at the bathroom door when I hear the blow dryer shut off—something she’s never once used in my presence—I listen and wonder what she’s going to do now to avoid coming to bed.
If she’s trying to wait me out, hoping I’ll go to sleep without her, she’s out of fucking luck. Every night, she falls asleep long before I ever do, and I’ve gotten too used to sleeping with her pinning me to the bed.
Even as painful as it is to wake up and not take advantage of her soft body pressing against mine.
When the bathroom door creaks open, I look that way and see her poke her head out.
“You’re not asleep?”
“Not yet.”
With a nod, she nervously walks to her bag. Her tank top and shorts are my favorite, but I’d still rather see her wrapped in lace and silk. Something I can’t exactly give to her right now—not when she thinks I’m just a normal guy. She has no idea the car I had towed back to New York cost more than what some people make in a lifetime or that when I told her I’m in real estate, I’m actually the owner of a company that regularly closes multimillion dollar deals.
I don’t know why I’m keeping that information from her. Why I’m still pretending to be someone I’m not.
Scratch that. I do know.
I like that she’s not interested in me because I can buy her nice things and take her on extravagant trips. I like that the smiles she shares with me have cost absolutely nothing and are more valuable to me than anything I’ve ever owned in my life. I like the sense of peace she’s wrapped around me without asking for anything in return.
And eventually, I’m going to give that back to her.
She’ll never have to worry about how much something costs or talk about buying a vehicle just so she’ll always have a roof over her head. That shit is all things of the past. And will be regardless of what happens between us.
I watch her squat in front of one of her suitcases and dig through until she finds a bright-green bottle with some kind of liquid inside, pumping some into her hand. After smoothing it through her hair, which looks curlier than it ever has, thanks to whatever she did in the bathroom, she puts the bottle back and glances nervously at the bed, then me.
I fight for control over my dick getting hard. What she’s thinking is written all over her pretty face. It was written all over her face earlier when I caught her checking me out. But the second I started getting close, the look in her eyes changed to panic, and there is no way I want her freaked out when I get my mouth on her.
Standing, she wipes her hands down the front of her shorts, glancing at the bed then at me again, and I hide a smile.
“Come to bed, Elora.” I toss back the blanket, and she moves around to the side opposite me and climbs in. Sitting an arm’s length away, with her back to the headboard, she starts to fidget nervously, and I sigh. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she lies, scooting down in bed while pulling the blanket up to her chin. “Just tired.”
“Give me two minutes to finish this up.” I turn my attention back to my computer and begin clicking through the information I need to sign off on.
“It’s okay. You can work.”
I’m sure I can.
When I’m done, I close the screen and set my laptop on the side table before reaching for the light and shutting it off. Once my head hits my pillow, I reach across the bed, grab her arm, and drag her to me, hearing her gasp.