Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I’m here on a spousal visa.” She shrugs. “A spousal visa without . . .” A spouse. She sets down her glass as though the summary means nothing to her. I make a sympathetic noise, not having a suitable answer. “But the upside of that,” she adds, relaxing back in her chair, “is that I’m free to do what I want on my nonexistent wedding night.”
The way her eyes skate over me makes it almost impossible to miss her meaning. It’s not a question of what she’s free to do, but whom.
It was brazen, and I like it. I like her.
But I’m not going to fuck her.
Am I?
Chapter 4
EVIE
“Thank you.” There’s an undeniable zing of electricity between our fingers as I hand him back his phone.
“Did it help?” Cool blue eyes match his tone, but I know he noticed as he slides his phone back into his pocket, keeping his gaze deliberately from mine.
“Yes. Riley replied.” I might not remember anyone’s phone number, but I’ve had the same email address and password since I was thirteen. “The spare key will be under the planter by the front door tomorrow morning. I’m just sorry I couldn’t arrange it before.” His roommate, Lori, is away for the weekend. Just as well, as she doesn’t like me. It also means I’ll get to raid her closet. Miss Havisham is not a look to cultivate.
“It’s not a problem—the hotel is nearby.” A gentle breeze ruffles Oliver’s hair, the summer sun still hanging in the evening sky, shimmering through the leaves to make a lacy pattern on his jacket. His lips look too soft for that face of chiseled granite. Another of Mother Nature’s jokes, I guess. I’ll make him so good looking, he seems untouchable, but I’ll give him lips made for kissing. Licking. Biting.
What is going on in my head today? Champagne usually gives me a headache, not make me desperately horny.
“Do people really do that?”
“Um.” I roll my lips inward, not sure of the answer. I saw the shapes his pretty mouth made, but that was the limit of my attention. Hot. Horny. Keys. Plant pot? Ah! “Sure.” I paste on a bright smile. “You’ve never done that?”
“I can’t say I have.”
“You sure you’re a property developer?” I give my head a slow shake. “I thought it was standard practice to leave the contractor a key under a pot or a doormat.”
“Perhaps London is different than Connecticut.”
They sure breed the men a little differently here. Maybe the weather makes for broodier types. “Well, Riley better find a way, or I’ll be sleeping on the streets from tomorrow.” Another strange entry on my wedding bingo card. Honeymooning in the Maldives or sleeping in the doorway of Zara?
“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
“Not once I get my purse back.” My credit cards, my phone, my clothes. My mental list goes on. Pack my bags. Face him who shall not be named. Avoid going to jail for murder.
“Would you like some help?”
“With Mitchell?” I shake my head. Maybe he’d like to dig the hole. “No, thank you.” My next undignified performance will happen without an audience.
“He seemed . . . very insistent.”
“Probably his ego,” I add briskly. “I’m not a violent woman, but I’ve found I can be inspired to violence.”
“Oh, I’m very sure you can take care of yourself.”
I like that he said so, whether he means it or not.
“Well, I appreciate you letting me take advantage of our new friendship.” I’d appreciate it if you let me take advantage of your body too.
Considering the many things I have to worry about, flirting with Oliver should not be at the top of my list. It’s fun though. The man is very good at it.
“A friend in need,” he answers prosaically.
“Is a pain in the ass indeed!”
He laughs, throwing back his head to expose the strong line of his throat and the masculine rise of his Adam’s apple. A ripple of yes please! washes through me.
“What?”
I give my head a tiny shake in the face of his curious expression. “Huh?”
“You’re looking at me strangely.”
Try thirstily, friend. Is it him? Is it the champagne? Is it because I don’t want yesterday’s wax to go to waste? I am currently as smooth as a dolphin from the brows down, and it was not a joyous experience.
“I was just thinking.” Lusting. Wondering if you’re my gift from the universe. I deserve one, don’t I? “Oh, ow!” I step on a stone—stupid me, I’d been so careful all this way not to—then stumble over the hem of my dress. I don’t fall though, as Oliver reaches out to grasp my arm.
“You should’ve eaten more.” Concern pinches his brows as he pulls me against him, brushing my hair from my face.
“It was a stone,” I protest laughingly, taking the opportunity to touch him up. I mean, straighten his lapels. “If you add a steak dinner to all that champagne, I might get the wrong idea, friend.”