Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
“I didn’t want you spending money on me,” I mumble. “I thought if I gave you an impossible list, I’d still meet your demand to give you a list without obligating you to get me anything on it.”
“Clever girl,” he says even as his lips pull down into a frown. “You need to learn to let me spoil you, pretty baby. I have more fucking money than I know what to do with. If I want to spend it on you, let me.”
“I don’t want you to spend it on me. It’s your money.”
“Precisely.” He smirks, grabbing a small box and then rising to his feet. “It’s my money. That means I can spend it however the hell I want. So if I want to buy you a goddamn diamond encrusted tiara every fucking day, then that’s my prerogative.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “You better not have bought me a diamond encrusted anything.”
“I didn’t buy this.” He strides across the room toward me, looking far too beautiful with that proud smile on his face. The small box drops onto my lap. “Open it, baby.”
I stare at the box for a long moment, too anxious to open it. “I don’t have your present,” I whisper.
“This isn’t your present.”
“It was under the tree.”
“Wishful thinking on my part.”
“It’s wrapped in Christmas paper.”
His lips tip up into an amused grin. “Do I need to spank your perfect little pussy to get you to open the box, Caitlin?”
“No?” I gulp, practically bursting into flames at the thought. And then I squirm. “Is now a bad time to tell you that I’m a virgin?”
“Jesus Christ.” He palms his cock. Pinches the bridge of his nose. Looks like he’s contemplating throwing me over his shoulder and storming for the stairs. His gaze actually flickers in that direction a few times as he clenches and unclenches his fists. “Open the box, Caitlin. Now.”
I quickly rip through the paper, setting it aside. My freaking heart stops beating when I see the box nestled inside.
I flick my gaze up to him…only to find him on his knees in front of me.
Holy crap.
“Lachlan,” I wheeze, my hands shaking.
“I put it under the tree because this was my Christmas wish for myself, pretty baby,” he murmurs, sliding the box out of my hands. He flips it open, and I know what’s inside before he ever holds it out to me between two fingers.
The ring is a gorgeous princess cut diamond on a platinum band. There’s an antique flair to it, as if it’s old. It's stunning.
“I didn’t think I stood a chance in hell of putting this on your finger anytime soon, but I’m a hopeful motherfucker. As soon as I saw your list, every plan I made went up in flames. I’ve got two days to make your dreams come true, but I can’t do that unless this is on your finger first,” he says. “When I’m in you for the first time, I need it to be with you wearing my ring, pretty baby.” He swallows hard. “I need to know that you’re going to be mine forever.”
“Y-you want to marry me?” I whisper.
“Want it? Sweetheart, if you don’t marry me, I’m going to lose my mind,” he growls, the truth blazing like twin suns in his eyes. “I’m so goddamn in love with you that I haven’t gotten a fucking thing done since you came to work for me. I sit in my office all day, every day, watching you on the cameras, trying to think up reasons to keep you late. I go where you go. You’re it for me.”
My heart threatens to pound out of my chest. Holy crap. He just said he’s in love with me. Lachlan is in love with me.
My mind spins as I try to process this reality—the one where my gorgeous boss is on his knees in front of me with a ring clutched between his fingers, practically begging me to marry him. The one where he wants me to be his Christmas gift.
“When I made my list, I was thinking about you. I wanted everything on it with you.” I lick my lips. “I just wasn’t brave enough to tell you that.”
“Tell me now, Caitlin,” he rasps.
“I love you. I’m so freaking in love with you, Lachlan,” I cry. “I want you for Christmas. Just you.” I pause, rethinking that statement. "Just you and your baby."
“Fuck.” His eyes flutter closed as he slips his ring on my finger with shaking hands. And then they spring open again as if he has to see it there. He stares like he can’t look away, the intense look on his face searing me. It’s so damn beautiful.
“I’ve been holding onto this ring since my parents died, waiting for the woman meant to wear it,” he admits. “It looks like it was made for you, pretty baby.”