Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
The smallest, amused snicker left him. “Yeah. Yeah, knowing you, you would.” He glanced down at my hand, and his throat bobbed. “Nice ring,” he said, the slightest quake in his voice.
I flexed my fingers. “Yep.”
“White gold?”
I nodded.
He gave me a wan, trembly smile. “Just like you wanted.”
When we’d talked of our plans for the future, I’d described my dream engagement ring. He’d flashed me a smile full of promise and then planted the softest, sweetest kiss on my mouth. It was about a week later that he went skulking back to Felicity.
Hinges creaked as my front door swung open.
Alicia blinked at us in surprise. “Oh. Hey.” Her forehead creased as she focused on Grayden, and I sensed she was about to give him an earful.
Not wanting a scene, I returned my gaze to him quickly. “You should go now.”
Taking a step back, he sucked in his lips. “Yeah. I’ll say things that I shouldn’t if I stay any longer.” He went to turn away but then stopped. “I’m not sure why you’re doing what you’re doing, but … he’s a lucky man.” With that, Grayden stalked down the driveway.
I wasted no time in shrugging past Alicia, who shut the door and examined my face closely, asking, “Everything okay?”
My chest expanded as I drew in a long breath. “Fine.”
“What the hell was that fool doing here?”
“He heard about the engagement from Felicity, who heard about it from Dax. Grayden’s naturally confused and he hoped I’d explain.”
Alicia frowned. “It’s none of his damn business what you do.”
“That’s pretty much what I said. Like with everyone else who I don’t intend on telling about the pact, I let him make his own conclusions.” Placing one hand on my hip, I swiped the other hand down my face. “It was stupid of him to come here. Felicity’s got friends around these parts. If they saw him, they’ll tell her, and she’ll go psycho on his ass.” Maybe even on mine, though I would like to think she’d be too scared of Dax to dare.
“Why didn’t he just call you?”
“He did try to. I didn’t answer. Then I blocked his number.”
“Which clearly delivered the message that you didn’t want to speak to him. But I’m not exactly surprised that he didn’t let it hold him back—he doesn’t respect your ‘no contact’ wish.” She sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay away from now on. Dax isn’t gonna be okay with his fiancée’s ex coming around.”
“Speaking of Dax … I have to get changed. I’m having dinner with him tonight. And I’ll get a tour of what might be my new home.”
“The villas here are awesome, so you’ll probably love it.”
“We’ll see.”
Chapter Ten
Wow, was my only thought as I parked in Dax’s driveway and took a good look at his home. The modern, flat-roofed, two-story villa was all alabaster paint, tall reflective-glass windows, and pure unadulterated opulence. The small courtyard added to the opulent feel, along with the pretty fountain bordered by topiaries.
The lot on which the villa was built wasn’t expansive, but the heavy use of tall trees gave the building a secluded feel. It looked calm. Tranquil. Idyllic.
Dax’s car—a sleek, black vehicle that had “style” metaphorically written all over it—was parked off to the side. I’d seen it around, but not the town car that was situated beside it.
Exiting my own vehicle, I was immediately greeted by the scents of greenery and clean air. Beneath them hovered the barest smell of wet stone emanating from the fountain.
I smiled as I again took in the villa. Damn, this could be my new home. Unless the interior was an absolute dump—which seemed supremely unlikely—I’d have absolutely no issues living here.
Not at any point in my life had I imagined myself marrying Dax Mercier, let alone moving in with him. He was just so elusive. You couldn’t lay a claim to a guy like him. Not unless he allowed it. But I’d have one when I became his wife—there would be a band on his finger to prove it.
Although … there was a possibility that he wouldn’t want to wear one. Not all guys did, and he’d once told me he didn’t like wearing rings.
He had mentioned that he’d buy our wedding bands, but it could be that his only intention was to use them for the exchange-of-rings part of the ceremony. If I was honest, I wouldn’t be too pleased if he afterward removed his band. Maybe it would be different if we were all wrapped up in each other—I’d feel secure in my claim to him. But we weren’t, and so his refusal to wear a ring would feel like a rejection; like he didn’t really see me as his wife.
Jesus, I was going to become his wife. At least in the legal sense of the word.