Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“And what idea would that be?”
“That I might need to sell a kidney to pay you back.”
He chuckles as the late-setting summer sun crowns his dark head in a halo of bronze. Something shifts inside me, something with heat and substance, the suddenness of it robbing me of my breath. If men can be beautiful, Oliver Deubel is the epitome of the ideal. Tall, dark, and more than handsome, he wears a suit like it’s a lethal weapon, and I am so attracted to him.
Mitchell is lower than a rat for what he’s done, but this isn’t one bit about him. When I look at Oliver, I get this awful yet heavenly twist deep inside. I can almost taste his kisses—anticipate the experience. But if I make a move, would that look like I’m pursuing pity sex? I’d rather Oliver rail me good and hard as a way of getting back at Mitchell. On some level, wouldn’t I be doing the same?
“Eve?”
I find myself blinking heavily. “Sorry, I was miles away.”
“Anywhere nice?” His words end in a provocative curl. “Judging by your expression . . .”
“This is just my thinking face.” It’s good you can’t see into my head, because I was imagining how incredible you’d look naked. “Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.”
“Or you should’ve eaten more,” he says again.
“Like I said, I stood on a stone and tripped over my stupid dress.”
“It isn’t stupid. I’m sure I’m not the first person today to say you look very beautiful.”
My insides suddenly feel like they’re filled with Pop Rocks. I dip my head to hide my delight. Wait—does he think I was fishing for compliments? I wasn’t, but I’m very happy to land them.
“Give a girl a fancy dress.” Lace whispers as I swish the skirt, and his shiny oxfords appear in my line of vision.
“Accept the compliment in the vein it was given.” His voice is soft as his finger finds my chin.
“I never learned how,” I whisper. Compliments make me feel uncomfortable.
“We’ll practice. You’re perfect. Right here in this moment. It’s easy, see?”
Perfect is an ideal I’ve never sought, but my body enjoys its resonance as he cups the side of my neck.
“Now thank me. Say it like you mean it.”
If his compliments resonate, his demands detonate, heat pulsing through me in their wake.
“Thank you,” I whisper, coy suddenly.
“Thanks may be shown as well as spoken.” His thumb is a sweet hint that slides across my lips.
I wrap my fingers in his lapels and rise to my toes, brushing my lips against his. “Thank you, Oliver. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, beautiful Eve.”
“And you really do have the loveliest lashes I’ve ever seen.” I move my hands across his superhero chest to flatten his lapels. Allegedly. “Even if you don’t follow your own rules.”
“I didn’t accept the compliment gracefully, did I?”
“As I recall, you didn’t accept it at all.”
“Lift your head. Look at me.” His words are a purred command, one I find impossible to resist. “Thank you for the compliment, Eve.” He leans in, his husky words a bare breath across my lips. “The accolade just took me by surprise.” The second meeting of our lips is no brush. His kiss is warm and unhurried, but all too soon, he pulls back. “How was that?”
“Nice.” My voice sounds rusty. I lick my tingling lips. Oliver’s eyes darken as he watches me taste his kiss.
“Then I mustn’t have thanked you properly.”
The sounds of the street fall away as our mouths meet again. His body comes up against mine, his tongue licking lushly into me, his fingers quick and clever as they work down my spine. I ball my hand in the back of his shirt, willing it to disintegrate, my hearing reduced to the pulse of my blood as time stands still, and space becomes irrelevant, as—
“Get a bridal suite!” A yell from a passing car. Cackling, distant laughter.
I make to pull away, but the way Oliver cradles the back of my head prevents me. Makes me feel protected.
“A little more inventive than ‘Get a room,’ I guess.” I bite the inside of my lip. Did that sound like a hint?
“Idiots,” he mutters without venom.
“We were kind of going for it.”
He takes my face in his hands, his thumbs gliding across my cheeks. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for hours, no matter how inappropriate the notion.”
“We get to make our own boundaries.”
“And I just straddled mine.”
“So I guess inviting you up for a drink would be a waste of time.” I sound unimpressed and feel like he just poured cold water all over our vibe.
“Beautiful Eve,” he groans. “Please don’t make this any harder.”
Oh, I could. I could make it so much harder. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
His head lifts, his eyes scanning the street behind me. “How can it not, after the day you’ve had? I don’t want to be someone you look back on and regret.”