Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Yes, he does. Genuine, sweet compliments. Not gross “your boobs look good” comments. “Yes.”
“I hope Magic is as bad in the cage as he is at trash talk. He sounded like an idiot in the clips I heard.”
“He’s a good fighter. He’s only had one loss.” His brow furrows with concern. “Are you sure you’ll be okay at the fight? It’s war inside the cage. Nothing glamorous or pretty.”
“Will I be a distraction for you if I’m there?”
He pauses and seems to consider the question instead of giving an automatic no. “Once the ref sets us loose, I’m focused on getting the job done—taking down my opponent.” He turns his head slightly as if he needs more time to consider my question. “I don’t think you’ll be a distraction.”
Unease curls in my stomach. “If you think I’m going to distract you in any way, I’ll watch from the locker room or something.”
“No. I want you there,” he says firmly. “Remy will be there. The other guys. I know you’ll be safe. That’s the only thing that would worry me.”
I move over to the dresser with the lighted mirror and press my finger to the round dot in the corner of the glass. A bright, flattering light flares from the edge of the mirror.
Gathering my hair, I pile it on top of my head and stand sideways, studying my profile with the updo. “Should I wear my hair up for the fight?”
He steps behind me and presses his lips against my shoulder, then against the crook of my neck. “No. I won’t be able to concentrate. All I’ll be thinking about is doing this.” He peppers more kisses against my neck.
His lips lightly brushing my skin tickles, and my shoulders jerk. He stands back and rests his hands on my waist.
I let my hair down and touch my chest. The dress has a simple round neckline that only shows a hint of cleavage, but my chest still feels bare.
“I didn’t think to bring a necklace or anything other than my little diamond studs.” I pinch my earlobe and wiggle the tiny round bezel-set earrings that had been my mother’s. “The dress is so over-the-top sparkly, no one will notice, right?”
Griff’s mouth twitches. He walks over to the nightstand by his side of the bed and slides the top drawer open, pulling out a white box. “Come here for a second.”
I meet him and he pulls me to sit on the bed with him.
“Here.” He hands me the box.
A pretty, gold logo embossed on top of the box is too elaborate to make out a name. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
I hook my finger in a black silk loop of fabric and gently slide the bottom of the box out. A necklace of thin, glittering white gold with several small diamonds stationed at intervals along the chain rests inside.
“Wow,” I breathe out. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You like it?”
“I love it.” I lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You know me so well.” The dainty strand of diamonds looks so elegant and pretty, I can’t stop staring at it.
“I was going to give it to you after the fight, but I think it goes with your dress.” He grazes my earlobe with his fingertip. “It kind of matches your earrings too.”
I glance at the necklace again. “It does.”
“Did you count the diamonds?” he asks.
“No.” I carefully tap each small stone. “Fourteen?”
“One for each year I’ve known you.”
My heart’s ready to explode. “I love you so much. Thank you.”
“As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.” Excitement quickens his words. “I think I owed you something extra nice since I gave you the same car for your birthday two years in a row.”
“I love the car and if it’s the only gift you give me for the rest of our lives, I’d still be happy.” I hold out the necklace. “Will you please put this on for me?”
“Sure.”
I turn and lift my hair. “When did you have time to even find it?”
“When we moved to the hotel, Underhill gave us a morning to go check out the Strip.” His breath’s warm on my neck as he works the clasp. “Got it,” he finally says.
I press my palm against my chest, holding the chain in place while I hurry to the dresser to look in the mirror. “Oh, it’s so pretty.”
“You’re pretty.” He steps behind me and rests his hands on the dresser, caging me in.
In the mirror, I watch our reflection. Griff, so much taller and broader than me, staring at me with so much affection in his eyes as he runs his finger down my spine.
He bends at the knees lightly and slides his hands up my legs, pushing the dress with them, until it’s bunched around my waist.