Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I glance at him. “If mixing business and relationships is a bad idea, why are we doing this again?”
“I enjoy making a mistake every once in a while.”
“Speak for yourself. Fun mistakes last a few hours at most. You’re like the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
“Can’t have anything good without a little risk.”
“Says the guy blackmailing me.”
“Not anymore, I’m not. We reached a mutually beneficial agreement.” He seems amused, in a good mood.
“I’m starting to think I’m suffering from some disorder. Like maybe I had a stroke or something. I can’t imagine any other reason why I’d agree to something so stupid.”
He laughs softly as the SUV pulls into the parking lot of an enormous hotel right on the Strip. Square front, water fountain spraying into the air. Multiple pools, cabins, and outbuildings.
“You agreed because you think this is your best option.” He puts a hand on my thigh. Not menacing, not invasive, but strangely comforting. “You’re doing this because you want to.”
I don’t get a chance to tell him that I’m doing this because I’m desperate, because the SUV parks and I’m whisked away. Two men appear, both wearing suits, despite the heat and the late hour. “Mr. Crowley, sir,” the younger of the pair says. He’s got straight dark hair and his jacket’s sleeves are slightly too short. “Everything’s been arranged.”
“They’re ready for us?” Nolan doesn’t glance at me as he strides into the hotel. The staff stares at him, but nobody moves to intercept. It’s like they’re afraid to approach.
“Ready and waiting,” the young man confirms. He glances at me. “Should I prep Mrs. Crowley? We have a room prepared she can use.”
“Not Mrs. Crowley yet,” I grumble at him.
Nolan waves that off. “Not necessary. We’ll head up straight from here.”
The older of the two enters into the elevator with us as the younger begins speaking into a walkie-talkie. The doors shut and we begin our ascent. I feel like I left my stomach back on the ground floor; everything in me is trembling.
“What do you think, Adrian?” Nolan asks. “How does the ceremony look?”
The older man grunts. “Security’s tight. Bad news on the priest though.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Drunk.” Adrian shows his teeth. They’re crooked and white. “Can’t be too surprised though. We dragged his ass outta bed at three in the morning with no notice.”
Nolan doesn’t look happy. “Can’t be helped.” But his lips press together.
“Don’t worry. I bet he does this inebriated all the time.” Adrian glances at me. “You sure we shouldn’t get her a dress?”
“No need,” Nolan says sharply before I can politely decline myself. “We’re here. I want this over with quickly.”
“What a romantic,” I say, exaggerating a loving sigh.
Adrian laughs. Nolan isn’t amused.
The elevator stops at the top and the doors open to an incredible view.
We’re on the roof of the hotel. Cool, dry wind blows through my hair. Adrian steps out first, grinning wolfishly as Nolan takes my hand. My breath catches in my throat, but he pulls me close. “Don’t be nervous,” he murmurs. “Everything will be all right, my something.”
“Assuming I’m about to be married to you, I really doubt that.”
Nolan pulls me forward. We’re in a round pagoda with views of Las Vegas and the mountainous desert in the distance. Ahead, more men in suits stand around the perimeter, while another older gentleman in a priest’s outfit fiddles nervously with a Bible.
I want to turn around. I want to run away. But I’m pulled inexorably forward, closer and closer to the priest, Nolan’s hand like a vice on mine.
“Get it over with,” he barks.
The priest flinches as if slapped. “I, ah, I can do a shortened version—”
“Skip to the end.” Nolan shoves a thumb at a low table nearby covered in documents. “And right to the paperwork.”
“Right, uh.” The priest glances at me. He’s younger than I would’ve guessed, in his early forties, with stubble on his face and bloodshot eyes. “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“Yes,” Nolan says. “And she says yes too.”
“Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now—”
Nolan grabs me roughly, pulls me against him, and lands a possessive, incredible kiss on my lips.
I linger there for longer than I should. I can’t help myself. The moment his mouth touches mine, I feel an echo of the magic we managed to conjure together that first night. He’s right—the spark’s still there, hidden away inside of me, afraid for a dozen reasons. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the shop, afraid I’ll lose everything. Afraid Nolan will take too much, and I’ll be left a shadow of myself, ghosting after him.
But no matter how much my mind chatters, how many reasons I have to refuse to sign that marriage certificate, none of it matters.
Only his kiss. Only his hands on my hips. Only him, his taste, lemony and fresh, flooding my mouth, pounding into my mind.