Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“If that’s really what you want.”
“Yes. Please.”
“I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” She toyed with the bedspread, her fingers tracing the pale blue pattern on the pristine white background. “Ben, I think we should probably spend the day together tomorrow. Take some pictures. People will be expecting to see honeymoon pics. My friends have already asked why there are no photos of us together.”
“This is a dilemma of your own making, Lilah. If I’d had my way, we would have spent every day of this damned honeymoon together.”
“Well, we still have a charade to maintain for at least a year, so if your intention is to keep Gramps and the board fooled, then we should probably have honeymoon pics.”
“So you’ll be doing this only for me?”
She gritted her teeth and glared at him, before honesty compelled her to say, “I don’t really want my friends to know that this whole thing is a sham. I have some pride as well. I’d like them to believe that, at least in the beginning, we cared about each other.”
“I care about you,” he said, and she snorted rudely.
“Romantically.”
His lips clamped shut and she laughed softly.
“Look, let’s just get some pictures and get it over with. Okay?”
“And you’ll be okay spending the day in my company? You sure you can manage that?”
She ignored the sarcasm in his voice and answered in a perfectly serious tone. “It’ll be hard, but I’m sure I’ll stomach it somehow. I’m tougher than I look.”
“I hope so,” he said, his expression somber and his voice deepening with some undefinable emotion.
“Why do you—”
“We should eat out tonight,” he interrupted before she could complete her question and she frowned. The interruption had been deliberate. He didn’t want her to pursue the subject and that infuriated her. “Get a jump on those photos you want to take.”
She briefly contemplated pushing him further on the previous topic, but the mere thought of once again attempting to extract his jealously guarded secrets from him, was exhausting. Let him keep his precious secrets. She didn’t care any longer.
She got up from the bed and stretched. His idea of eating out appealed to her. She hadn’t had dinner yet, and the thought of sharing yet another strained meal with Ben within the confines of these four walls wasn’t at all tempting.
“Give me half an hour to get ready,” she said, and he nodded.
Dinner was an awkward and strained affair. Lilah felt conspicuous among the throngs of lovestruck honeymooners. They were surrounded by sickeningly happy couples, most of whom spent the entire meal exchanging long, loving stares, lingering touches, and feeding from each other’s plates. It was quite sickening really…
Ben, meanwhile, had one arm hooked over the back of his chair, with his body angled slightly to the side—looking ready for flee at any second. He appeared to be a man who longed to be anywhere but here. They’d spoken in sporadic monosyllables since the entrée course had been served nearly half an hour ago, followed by excruciatingly long silences peppered with brief pleasantries about the weather, décor, food.
This had clearly been a mistake and Lilah yearned for the hellishly long meal to be over already.
Ben was idly twirling his wine glass between thumb and forefinger, while his restless eyes ran over everybody else in the restaurant, pausing only briefly on Lilah’s face after each sojourn around the room. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was nervous, but she inwardly scoffed at the notion. The supremely self-confident Benjamin Elijah Templeton did not get nervous.
“So why aren’t you taking any pictures?” His question surprised her out of her own deep funk and she blinked up at him for an uncomprehending moment before the words registered.
“I have been.”
“Of the food and décor, yes. None of us, or of me.”
“Do you want me to take your picture?” She asked with a tilt of her head.
“I assumed that’s what we were here for.”
“Right.” She lifted her camera, which was never far from her reach, happy to have its familiar weight back in her hands, and squeezed off a few quick shots of him. His expression remained remote and unreadable throughout the sequence of photographs, with only the deepening furrow between his brows indicating any kind of emotion.
She placed her camera to the side again, careful to keep it far away from any water or wine.
“That’s it? They couldn’t have been very interesting. Didn’t you want me to do something? Smile or eat or stare lovingly into your eyes?”
“I’d never dream of asking you to smile, I wouldn’t want you to break your face,” she told him tartly, and amusement blazed in his eyes.
“I haven’t had much reason to smile these last few days,” he said, sounding a little defensive.
“Or even these last few years,” she corrected him tartly, and his eyebrows rose.