Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Jewelry, even an abundance of it, doesn’t seem like enough. On the ride back to the Four Seasons, I reminded myself over and over that I have time. All the time in the world to spoil her rotten. Oh, and I plan on it. When I get Alice back to London, I’m going to bury my little girl in silk and diamonds and gowns and vacations. Not to mention, as many desserts as she can stand.
I key in the code that opens the penthouse door and stride inside, stopping short when I find my assistant with his heels kicked up in the living room. My God, I’ve been so wrapped up in Alice and coming up with a proposal worthy of my future wife, I’d forgotten about him. Fire burns a trail in my esophagus, just knowing he’s been alone in the same hotel room as Alice.
“Boss,” Dan says, hurriedly dropping his feet from the coffee table and standing at attention. “Welcome back. Your things are packed and I’ve taken care of…” He chuckles under his breath. “Well. You know.”
I drop the Tiffany’s bags on the nearest table, my pulse started to tick wildly in my temples. “No. I don’t know. Enlighten me.” Without waiting for an answer, I call for her. “Alice!”
There’s no response.
My mouth turns dry, along with my throat. “Where is she?”
“Erm…gone?”
An arrow lances me in the gut. “Gone?”
Dan laughs again, but with far less confidence. “You’re welcome?” He fidgets nervously—as well he should. “She’s half your age, Mr. Cove. The gossip sites—”
“Since when have I ever given a fuck about gossip sites?”
“Well your brand—”
“Oh, sod off. My brand,” I spit, storming toward the bedroom, as if Alice is going to magically still be in bed, looking like a fairy. I can’t believe this. I can’t stand it. My skin is crawling with red ants and I want to tear it off. She’s gone. She’s gone. “What the fuck did you say to her?”
“Not much. Small talk.” When there’s a long pause, I turn and find my assistant trying and failing to stuff a folder of paperwork into his trousers. He turns bright red when he realizes he’s been caught. Oh God, this can’t be happening.
“Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.” I truly feel like I’m going to lose the contents of my stomach. “You had her sign an NDA.”
“It’s standard procedure.”
Rage takes me by the throat. “I plan to make her my wife.” Now she thinks she’s just a conquest. That knowledge is too much to bear. My body moves on its own and I turn, burying my fist through the wall, sending plaster and dust in every direction. “Leave the folder and get out. You’re fired.”
“But Mr. Cove—”
“Consider yourself lucky I’m not throwing you off the balcony.” I face him again and the hell I’m feeling must be written on my face, because he pales. “I can still change my mind,” I growl, sending him running for the door.
As soon as it closes behind him, I’m a man on a mission.
I can fix this. I have to fix this.
Jewelry definitely isn’t enough now.
I’m not only winning back the woman I love, but making her understand she owns my soul now—and will until the end of time.
* * *
Alice
It has been two days since I spent the night with Sebastian.
Two days since my heart was shattered to pieces.
It’s hard to believe I’m back at work, going through my normal routine, after briefly living in a fairy tale. My body performs the functions it’s supposed to perform, creating the work schedule, making supply orders, inspecting the dining room of Landmark. But nothing feels the same. All the activities that used to be my normal are now out-of-body experiences.
There is construction taking place at the restaurant across the street from Landmark and I wish the noise would stop. The drilling and hammering is making my permanent headache even worse. What are they even doing over there? I overhead a rumor that the restaurant is changing hands, but did they have to start renovations in the middle of my agony?
Highly inconsiderate of them.
Several members of the wait staff whisper as I pass by, but I ignore them. None of them have gotten up the courage to ask me what happened the night world-famous chef Sebastian Cove carried me out the door in his arms. What would I say if they did ask?
He brought me back to the most magical hotel room and fulfilled my every fantasy, fed me the perfect cake—and then kicked me to the curb?
They probably suspect a version of that story, anyway.
It probably happens all the time.
Celebrities sleep with fan girls and move on without blinking.
Unfortunately, I might have started off as a Sebastian Cove fan girl, but I definitely ended as much more. I fell in love with him over the course of our night together and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. Not after experiencing the highest high and the farthest drop I could have imagined.