Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“How many have come before me?” I ask, attempting not to gulp with fear.
“Too many, most of them already trained in the finest kitchens.” Patience whispers, her light green eyes glittering. “Most of them quit before the end of the day.” She leads me to the pantry. “Study until I call you. I won’t over complicate today for you.”
“Thank you.” She leaves me by the heavy metal door that looks better built than a bank safe. “Holy fuck,” I mutter under my breath. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
The living room light is on when I pull into the residential carpark just across from our three-bedroom townhouse. For the price we paid for this tiny building in London we could have afforded a mansion in the countryside or smaller towns of Britain. Unfortunately needs must. After the country house burned down, we have yet to decide what to do with the land and Nathan needed to be close to his newly opened store. It has prospered so well with his gorgeous jewellery line, he has been able to open another in Newcastle.
London is where we need to be and luckily it has all worked out okay, with my new job being here too. If we’d stayed in Skegness where my mum lives, I’d not have this opportunity and Nathan would need to be away five of seven nights.
I see the curtains twitch in the living room window and make a move. I sure hope Nathan has coped better than I have today.
My fingers find the zipper to my jacket and pull it down as I cross the one-way street and ready my key to unlock the door quietly.
It opens before I get the chance and I’m yanked inside by the man I love within the space of a second.
He kicks the door closed and presses me to it.
“Careful,” I moan, my voice a whisper. The fact there’s no noise means the kids are sleeping. “I ache everywhere.”
His light brown eyes find mine in the dim lighting and the back of his knuckles trace my cheek. “I know how to make you feel better.”
“You do?” I raise a sceptical brow. If he’s thinking what I think he’s thinking, that definitely isn’t going to make me feel better.
I squeal when he lifts me into his arms and carries me into the living room, where the scent of vanilla and cherries settles gently in the air.
“What are you doing?” I giggle when his hand finds the light and flicks it down, leaving nothing but candlelight to illuminate the space.
“Looking after you,” he states and finally places me on the ground. He motions to where the couch cushions are spread in a line on the floor, a thin blanket and towel draped over them.
“I’m confused.”
His answering smile is so handsome it still, to this day, takes my breath away. “Step out of your shoes.”
“Umm…”
“Just do it,” he orders, his tone exasperated, so I quickly kick off my black leather shoes and flex my ankles. His hands peel my jacket down my arms before tossing it onto the naked couch. “I love this.” Fingers tickle the space between my shoulder blades. “You have a trail of the finest hair.” His lips touch the space where his hand just wandered. A shiver slowly weaves down my spine, twisting and pulsing along the nerves. “It makes you look shiny.”
“No, I think that’s just the sweat.” I turn in his arms. “You shouldn’t touch me; I’m gross.”
“Be quiet,” he chuckles and pulls my thin vest up and over my head. “How was your first day?”
“Hard,” I admit, closing my eyes when his hands smooth down my arms and tickle to the inside of my wrists. “I’m so tired.”
“I bet.” His lips find my jaw as his hands unfasten my black trousers. They drop to my ankles. “Step out of them.”
I take a step backwards, putting a small space between us. His eyes gaze upon my body, a hungry glint in their almost chocolate brown depths.
“Your beauty mesmerises me,” he states, holding out his hand. I take it and allow him to lead me to the pillows. “On your front.”
When I’m comfortably situated on the pillows, he immediately rids me of my bra and drips warm oil onto my back.
I laugh gently and wriggle, though he soon stops that by parting my thighs and kneeling between them after ridding himself of his T-shirt and jeans. “Stop laughing.”
“‘Kay,” I murmur, resting my head on folded arms. “You spoil me.”
“I seem to remember all of those days I’d come home from work exhausted and you’d have this exact layout prepared for me.”
“What can I say? I’m such a caring fiancée.” His hands begin to smooth the oil into my skin. I smile when I feel the leather of his gloves. It isn’t often that he wears them but he still has his triggers, sticky substances and grainy substances being amongst them. The road to recovery is a long one but I’m extremely proud of how far he has come. “That feels so good.”