Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“A pity.” He gritted his teeth together and sipped at his bottle of water.
“What is that supposed to mean exactly?” she asked.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” He wasn’t about to tell her that her hair looked so soft and silky, he’d thought about running his fingers through to see if it was exactly that. Nope, he kept those sweet thoughts to himself.
They were already crossing lines of what was appropriate.
“We’re never having sex,” Eliza said.
“What? I wasn’t thinking about sex.”
She looked up from her notepad. “I know you weren’t. I’m talking about this agreement we’ve got in place. We’re not having sex, so that means separate bedrooms. We’ll be staying in a hotel? If you give me those details, I can make the necessary arrangements.”
“No hotel.”
“Then where are we staying? Do you have another penthouse apartment back in your hometown?” she asked.
“No, I don’t. We’ll be staying at my parents’ place.”
“Won’t that be a little cramped?”
He laughed, he couldn’t help it. “No, it won’t be cramped. You’ll be in complete luxury.”
“I don’t care about that. I’m thinking about the sleeping arrangements.”
“I’ll talk to my parents about organizing a second bedroom for you,” he said.
“Oh, you will?”
“Yes.” What he wasn’t about to tell her was that he couldn’t guarantee they’d agree to it. His parents liked to think they were forward thinkers. Ahead of the game in bringing true love together. They judged everyone on their standards, and they were rarely separated as he grew up.
“Is that all?” he asked. “Do you want me to chain my hands to my sides? Not talk to you?”
She looked at her notepad. “Actually, I’ve still got to cover the correct dress code, pet names, and acceptable fondness.”
“Acceptable fondness? What the hell? Look, I can call you darling or sweetheart. You’re overthinking this way too much.”
She laughed. “Are you really my boss right now?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t get this woman.
“It means we’re about to pull off a giant con right now. You and me, pretending to be engaged to your parents, who have known you for forty years, am I correct in assuming this?”
He didn’t justify her question with an answer.
“Exactly. I think we should cover all of our necessary basics first. This is a detailed list of what came off the top of my head, Mr. Boone. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“If you’re going to be engaged to me, I think it’s only fair you call me Preston.”
“Yes, of course. That’s right.” She stopped, licking her full lips. “Preston. There, see? That wasn’t so hard.”
“From now until this ruse ends, that’s all you call me. Preston. No more Mr. Boone.”
“Fine. Fine. I can do that. It’ll be easy. A piece of cake.”
He happened to notice a flush building from her chest up to her face.
She scanned her piece of paper and got to the bottom with a wrinkled nose. “We’ve got to learn about each other. Get everything in order.”
“Eliza, you’re overthinking this.”
“Am I? I mean, think about it. They’re going to ask questions and I only just learned you have a sister.”
He wasn’t about to tell her he had three brothers as well. To some, his life might be a tad overwhelming.
“Look, I think the best thing for all of us is for you to forget about your list. Realize I can be a decent human being and treat you with respect, and we’ll get through this.”
She nibbled on her lip. When did they start looking so red and so plump? He must be losing his mind.
“You’re right. Of course. You’re totally right.” She closed her notebook. “We’ve got this. I will see you at work tomorrow, Mr. Boone. I mean, Preston. I was totally going to say Preston.” She smiled. “We’ve got this.”
He didn’t think they did get it, but he walked with her across his apartment building toward his front door.
She held out her hand. “See you tomorrow.”
He opened the door for her and watched her leave.
With Eliza out of his apartment, he could finally think. It was about time. Stretching his arms above his head, he’d already started to cool down from his workout. His PA’s nerves had interrupted his precious meditation time.
Preston headed toward the shower, putting his clothes into the laundry basket. He had a cleaner who came to his apartment three times a week and completed all of their chores in the apartment: cleaning, keeping the place immaculate, and even doing his laundry. He paid her handsomely for it as she’d taken one of the jobs right off his hands.
He never had to think about his laundry. Before he went away to college, his mother had taken him through her program of laundry cleaning. He’d been determined to get away from Westcliffe Heights, and because of that, she’d forced him to do an entire summer of laundry. From gathering it out of his brothers’ and sister’s rooms, to actually washing their clothes, separating out the dark colors, as well as the delicates and lingerie. He’d been shown how to hang it out on a washing line, and also how to treat clothes in a dryer. His mother had been thorough and also provided a written exam.