Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I pressed my lips together and forced a smile before my gaze moved to the man standing next to her.
“Allow me to introduce my son, The Honorable Romney Horace Zeigler, the future baron.”
The cocktail party conversation din evaporated. Like birds spooked out of the trees, there was silence as the guests averted their faces but still strained to eavesdrop.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I whispered dutifully, as I took my first real look at the man I was expected to spend the rest of my life with. Over the last few days, while I was cloistered in my room, avoiding any sight of Reid, I had refused to open my computer and Google his name, knowing if I did so, I might lose my nerve.
He was handsome enough, tall, and a little on the thin side, with sunken ashy cheeks that gave him the impression of chiseled cheekbones and a small mouth that twisted into a condescending smirk.
I hoped it was a way of covering his nerves, but I doubted it.
“The pleasure is all mine,” my fiancé said, the sincerity not reaching his eyes as he took my hand and brought it to his cold lips so he could kiss the back.
His hands were also cold.
Everything about the man seemed cold and damp, like the weather from his home country.
Reid was always so warm.
The second he touched me, my stomach flipped as bile rose in the back of my throat.
I feigned a blush, and my father led us all into the formal dining room that had been set using the finest china we owned.
Luc was already there with a drink in one hand and the other at the small of his wife’s back. They were laughing at something Marksen had said while Olivia adjusted his tuxedo collar.
I so longed to join them, but as the center of the attention, I was still on stage.
Playing my part.
Always playing my part.
I stood back while my father made the introductions and waited for the signal to sit.
I was sat of course, with my fiancé on one side and, thankfully, Amelia on the other.
I really did love my sister-in-law. She was just so much fun. She also understood the struggle of what it meant to be a woman in our class and having to learn how to balance what she wanted with what was expected of her. I admired her courage. There was no way I would ever manage to summon the bravery to go against my father’s wishes the way she had gone against her mother.
According to Luc, there was a lot more to the story, but I had yet to hear everything.
I leaned over. “No offense, but what the hell is your mother doing here?” I whispered behind my hand.
Amelia let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Don’t get me started. That woman has no shame. She’s set herself up as some kind of attaché to the baroness. It’s absolute pandering.”
My brow furrowed as I watched the two older women lean over the silent, elderly baron as if he wasn’t even there while they chatted animatedly.
I was ready to settle into what I had hoped would be a barely tolerable evening when Reid entered and took his place standing by the door.
Directly across from where I was sitting.
CHAPTER 18
CHARLOTTE
My cheeks warmed as he settled his fierce gaze squarely on me.
Thank God the surrounding guests were too stuck up and self-involved to notice.
In a desperate moment, I half expected him to leap over the table, grab me, and run out of the room like a wild animal wrestling its next meal from the rest of the pack.
Luc shot him a questioning look but didn’t say anything.
Placing my napkin on my lap, I glanced over at my father, but he was busy trying to engage my future husband in a conversation about recent investments.
How was it possible that the world’s most enigmatic, dangerous man had just strolled into the room, giving off waves of heated anger, and I was the only one to pick up on it?
The answer was simple.
Because all that heated anger was only directed at me.
Erotic visions of our last time together warmed my face even further.
The raw sexuality of it. The passion mixed with anger. My own willing submission to his firm hand.
My breath hitched.
I should have hated him for what he made me do that day.
I should have hated him for blackmailing me by forcing me on my knees like a common whore.
I should have hated him for making me come and then deserting me.
But I didn’t. I didn’t hate him for any of those things. I hated him because he made me feel something I didn’t know was possible.
Every time he and I were alone together, he made me feel more.
More energized. More aware. More emotional. More alive!
He showed me things about myself that I would have never known were possible.