Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Maddox steps off the cart with confidence that makes my mouth water. He offers me a hand. His eyes twinkle as I lay my palm in his.
He wraps his fingers around mine and helps me to the ground. But as soon as both feet are on the pavement, he lets go.
I frown at the loss of contact. He winks. Asshole.
“This is James,” Otis says, gesturing to the man walking toward us. “He will be your butler for the duration of your stay.” He pauses until James reaches us. “James, this is Maddox and Ashley Thompson.”
I snort. What do I say to that?
“I’m sorry,” Maddox says, ignoring me. “My gorgeous wife made the reservation before we were married. We’re the Carmichaels. Maddox and Ashley Carmichael.”
Ashley Carmichael? I giggle and start to move my elbow into Maddox’s side. He captures my arm, slides his hand down my forearm—leaving a trail of heat behind—and laces our fingers together. All without looking at me.
I blow out a shaky breath and wiggle my fingers. He squeezes my hand tighter. The pressure cascades through me and pools in my stomach.
This isn’t a good sign for my willpower.
I’ve made it two decades without losing my self-restraint. If I don’t watch it, I’ll be a puddle in minutes. I need to play a little hard to get.
“It is very nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael,” James says. “I’ll be taking care of you for the next few days.”
I think it’ll be Maddox taking care of me, sir, but thanks.
Otis quietly turns back toward the car.
“Thank you for the ride, Otis,” I say.
“It’s my pleasure.”
I try not to laugh as I remember our conversation with Jess about pleasure. Maddox glances at me and grins. He remembers too.
“How would you prefer that I address you?” James asks.
Maddox looks down at me. I was going to offer our first names, but the intensity in his eyes steals the words. Speak for me. My brain-to-mouth connection is faulty.
His lips twitch as he turns back to James. “Maddox and Ashley would be great.”
“Perfect. May I show you to your suite?” James asks.
We follow him up the short walk and through a set of oversized doors. Maddox’s hand is in the small of my back with just enough pressure to make its presence known. I glance at him over my shoulder.
“Behave,” I whisper. “There are people around.”
“I can fix that.”
I laugh and face forward—and gasp.
The far wall is nearly all glass doors, framed by buttery-hued walls. Pale blue sky, bright blue water, and pale colored sand present like a painting on the other side.
“This is beautiful,” I say.
Maddox and James talk animatedly behind me as I move deeper into the space. I practically float to the doors that showcase the water and feel my soul just pause.
This is perfection.
A pool with a small yard has been built below the house so it doesn’t obstruct the view. There is a living room to my left, decorated in creams and browns, and a dining table to my right. I turn toward the table and spot a kitchen through a doorway. And as I keep turning, I land on the most attractive thing in the room—my pretend husband.
“Miss Ashley,” James says, moving toward me with Maddox at his side. “I’ve given your husband a phone for you to use if you need anything during your stay.”
Maddox holds up the device.
“I’m all but a push of a button away. Should you need dinner reservations, transportation, a book to read on the beach—whatever it is—it’s my job to ensure you have the best experience at The Royal Paloma.”
“That’s great, James. Thank you,” I say.
He nods. “We’ve unpacked your things while you were checking in. You’ll find everything in the closet in the bedroom right up those steps.” He points at a staircase that I didn’t notice next to a door in the living room. “The kitchen has been stocked with the items on your pre-arrival form and you’ll find a list of the restaurants, bars, and venues that are available to you on the kitchen counter. There is a list of excursions there as well. Should you need any suggestions, please ask.”
He pauses. When it becomes apparent that we don’t have any questions, he continues.
“It is mid-afternoon now,” James says. “May I make dinner arrangements for you?”
I look at Maddox. “I … I don’t know.”
“If I may make a suggestion,” James offers.
“Please,” Maddox says, walking across the room and standing beside me.
His arm wraps around my waist, his fingertips only dusting my side. I can’t stop myself from leaning into him and basking in the warm wall of his body. It’s scary how nicely I fit into this spot.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I try desperately to focus on James.
“Since it’s the first day of your honeymoon, would you like a candlelight dinner on the beach? Many of our couples enjoy it, and the weather tonight is supposed to be perfect.”