Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
"Board president."
He grinned. "I hereby, and for the next five minutes, strike that rule from the books." He pulled me closer and pressed his lips to mine, a soft sweet brush of commitment, one that changed, grew more passionate and possessive, his hand moving to cup the back of my head, his mouth sealing the deal, catching my heart as it jumped over the edge of forever.
I loved this man, and when the kiss ended, I told him as much. He grinned and recaptured my mouth, his kiss deepening as he pressed me against the railing.
There was a gasp from our right, and I pulled away and saw Hannah, her eyes huge, her face alarmed at our flagrant breach of the rules. She pressed a firm finger to her lips, then made a zipper motion, doing a solemn and careful pantomime of locking her lips and throwing away the key.
Then, her face broke into a grin, and she tore off into the house with a squeal.
Chapter 14
Two months later, I pulled up to Brant's house, the entrance lights illuminating the path as they sensed the presence of a vehicle. More lights came on, palm trees and stone appearing in an orchestration that must have set Brant back a fortune. I pressed the remote, and my bay in the garage opened. Pulling in, I parked and waited for the door to shut and stop the cold Bay Area wind from whooshing in.
Inside, I removed my shoes and left them by the door, conscious of Brant’s level of OCD cleanliness. The house was silent, and I walked into the three-story entranceway and paused at the base of the stairs, listening. There were no sounds from above. He was probably downstairs.
I took the elevator, the doors quietly opening to an underground computer lab that rivaled Ironman's in both size and capability. The air was cooler down here and there was the hum of computers throughout the rooms. I checked the server rooms, then found him in the far room, at the long workspace. His back was hunched forward, his skin bare under the fluorescents, blue pajama pants low on his hips. Straddling a stool, he worked over a pile of wires, his tools lined up before him in neat order. I took the leather chair in the corner of the room. Tugging the blanket off the back of it, I wrapped it around my body and settled in to watch him work.
"Hey baby." He didn't turn, the clink of tools the only sign of his activity.
"Hey love."
"I'll be done soon."
"Take your time. Mind if I put some music on?"
"Please. I adjusted the play tracks. Let me know what you think."
I picked up the Laya, Brant's latest prototype, a tablet that wouldn't hit markets for another year. Opening the music center, I was instantly impressed. He had done more than adjust play tracks. The layout of the music center was completely different. I chose my mood: lazy. Drawing an abstract sketch with my finger, a lazy swirl with an occasional dot or skip of interest, I clicked play. It knew my touch, recognized fingerprints in a millisecond. And, within seconds, it was playing the exact song desired—a song I didn't even know, but it was exactly what I wanted. Coldplay. The music flowed through speakers hidden along the walls, and a light display began to dance over the walls.
I loved his house. It was such a stark difference from the condo—which was luxurious efficiency and nothing else. Here, there was life in the walls. Places like this one, with his stamp on it. This was a place I could imagine having a family. A dog. Christmases and holidays. Home-cooked meals.
I curled into the chair and thought of his bedroom upstairs, of the massive walk-in closet and pictured moving in, of waking up each morning in this house, of sitting right here, each evening, and watching as he changes the world.
My hesitancy of love, my fear of it, had vanished. I truly loved this man. I couldn't imagine a life without him. He was the complement to my fears, a man firmly set into the wealth I desired but with the independence and confidence to build his own world of it. Together, we had created a simple life of elegance, exploring the nuances of each other without caring what anyone thought. With this man, I could see the possibility of a family. A genuine life. Being married and happy, and not as a trophy wife.
"Do you approve?" He didn't turn, his work continuing as he spoke.
"I approve," I said softly. "You are brilliant, baby."
“Thanks, love."
I watched the flex of his back, the way his muscles yawned when he ran his hands through his hair. Listened to the soft mutter of his words as he spoke to himself. Smiled as the room went dark, crescendos played against my skin, and I fell asleep against the soft leather.