Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Literally.
Physically.
I encourage her to lift, and we both breathe out when she sinks onto me.
Yeah. Can’t say no.
32
I’m standing, suited, considering the spare bedroom I’ve stepped foot in maybe three times since I’ve lived here. All looking for Ava. It would make a wonderful nursery. But maybe a little too far away from our room.
All thoughts for another day, Ward. Let’s focus on convincing Ava—and the rest of the world, for that matter—that she should marry me.
I chew my lip, grabbing my tie, vehemently ignoring my sub-conscience, which is currently reminding me that I have already done things arse about face.
I spray some Aqua di Gio on my neck and go to the mirror, looking at a man I’ve only recently become acquainted with. A man with clear eyes and a clear mind. Which begs the question why he’s having such insane thoughts, given he’s lucid for the first time in nearly twenty years.
I slip my Rolex on and fix my collar, get my jacket on, then go downstairs to my study. I stand on the threshold for a while, looking at another space in the penthouse that’s under-used. But, again, if Ava set up her own firm? This would be an amazing workspace for her. And in Lusso, a place she designed and executed? Don’t tell me that’s not the perfect portfolio. To have her meetings with clients and potential clients surrounded by the luxury she created? It makes perfect sense.
Once at my desk, I lower to my chair, pulling my trousers up by the knees and making sure my jacket isn’t beneath my arse. I gaze at the wall opposite the desk, my fingers forming a steeple in front of my mouth. It’s a little bare. Some art will fix that. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I start scrolling through the images of Ava, marking my favorites. That’s all of them.
I get to the most recent image of her in the liquor store leaning over the counter to see the shelfs and smile, head tilted. But I lose the screen when my phone rings. “Clive,” I say, getting the key for my safe out of the drawer.
“Mr. Ward, the elevator doors have been repaired.”
“Thanks, Clive.” I get up and go to the safe in the cupboard.
“Anything else, Mr. Ward?”
I smile a little. “Not now, Clive, but I’m sure I’ll require your assistance in the near future.”
“Right you are, Mr. Ward.” He hangs up, and I tuck my phone away, freeing up both hands to remove the necklace box from the safe. I lift the lid, squinting when the sparkle seems to burst out of the box as if it’s been suppressed. I take the necklace and put the box back, shutting the safe, the diamonds hanging from my hand, the spotlights above hitting it from every direction, projecting light beams on the walls. It’s quite symbolic. Like Ava, it radiates light. My stomach flutters, and I laugh in response. I’m nervous? I bunch the necklace into my fist carefully and slip it into my trouser pocket, wiping at my forehead without thought. Really nervous. I shake my head to myself, checking my watch. “Shit,” I breathe, retrieving my phone and leaving my study, dialing John.
“Where are you?” he asks, short and sharp. “It’s six.”
“I’m on my way.” I get to the bottom of the stairs and look up.
“You’ve left Lusso, haven’t you?” John’s question is loaded with threat.
“Yeah.” I take the stairs two at a time on light feet.
“So you’re in the car, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“So, Ava can hear me, can’t she?”
Fuck it. “All right, Marple. We’re just leaving.”
“Sarah’s stressing about the gift bags.”
“Why?”
“No batteries.”
“What?”
“Niles provided the toys and no batteries.”
I approach our bedroom door. “Schoolboy error,” I mutter, which is ironic because he looks like a schoolboy.
“Can you pick some batteries up on your way?”
“Where the hell am I going to get—”
“Fifteen hundred triple A’s?”
“Fifteen hundred?” I blurt. “Fucking hell, John. I don’t think the local Tesco will have fifteen hundred triple A’s knocking around in the stock room.”
“I did wonder if I was clutching at straws.”
I sigh. No batteries for the cock rings? For fuck’s sake. Luxury giftbags that include toys that require batteries but have no batteries. “I’ll be there soon.” I hang up and get close to the door, knocking gently. “Ava, baby, we need to go.”
“Two minutes,” she calls as I back away, batteries and lateness forgotten. I’m nervous again, and the anticipation to see her is getting the better of me. I take myself downstairs and put some music on, pace, eyes low, thinking, thinking, thinking. What will her family make of me? It hasn’t escaped my notice that Ava hasn’t mentioned introducing me to them. And, gutting as it is, I know it’s because she’s worried about the age gap. She’s worried about what her parents will think. And her brother? I cringe. An older brother, though still not as old as me.