Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“I should not have to remind you that there are no questions for the future Mrs. Grace,” he calls out. Then his lips find my temple. “Just a few more seconds, darling.”
The cameras click furiously at the tender affection. I tip my chin up, and our gazes meet. Connor’s eyes search mine, soft and warm, full of secrets and a gentle apology. I wet my bottom lip and arch a brow. The media seem to like it when he’s exerting his dominance, followed by sweetness. His smile darkens, and then he bends, pressing his lips lightly to mine.
For a moment the world stops turning, and all that exists is him and me, the softness of his lips and the heat of his fingers tightening on my waist.
But it’s over just as quickly as it begins. I’m disoriented as he rushes me past the photographers and camera crews. He raises one hand as we pass, his other arm still wrapped protectively around me.
His mother stands on the other side of the mob, her expression remote as she waits for us to reach her. “Your fiancée needs media training.”
“Mildred did fine. Some warning that you’d invited the media would have been nice.”
“The media are always invited. You’re featured in the gossip rags often enough to know this.” His mother gives him an irritated look. “Quite the spectacle at the end.”
He smiles placidly. “Isn’t that what this was about, Mother?”
“Your father won’t be happy.”
“He never is.”
She sighs, her shoulders melting for a moment. “Why can’t you just make it easy for once? You’re a Grace. People are interested in your choices, good and bad.” She finally turns to me and adopts what I expect is supposed to be a smile, but mostly she looks tired. “I’m sure this is all overwhelming for you.”
I echo Connor’s smile. “I spend a lot of time in hockey arenas, which are notorious for being overwhelming, I can handle a few nosy photographers.”
Her expression softens for a moment, but then her phone chimes and she rolls her shoulders back, her face a mask of arrogant indifference. “I have a meeting. Everything has been arranged for your walk-through and tasting. Please do make selections so we’re not left guessing.” She air-kisses my cheeks and does the same to Connor before striding off.
“I apologize for my mother,” Connor mutters.
“She seems stressed more than anything.”
“It’s the effect I have on her. On all of them.”
I skim the back of his hand with my fingers. “I’m sorry they don’t understand you.”
“Come on.” He laces our fingers and guides me to the escalator that will take us to the second-floor event spaces.
Everything about this hotel screams luxury. We pass a conference center and head for the ballroom.
A man dressed in a hotel uniform approaches us, a smile plastered on his slightly panicked face. His name tag reads Henrick. “Mr. Grace, you’re early. I would have met you in the lobby and escorted you up here.”
“I know my way around my family’s hotels.” He inclines his head toward me. “This is my fiancée, Mildred Reformer.”
“Ms. Reformer.” He nods and half-bows.
“It’s just Dred.”
He looks to Connor, as though he’s seeking clarification or permission.
I jump in with an explanation, hoping to break the tension. “It’s a nickname. Mildred is pretty spot on, considering my profession, and Dred makes me feel like less of a nerdy librarian and more like I belong on some secret superhero squad.”
Connor’s face grows ten times more attractive as a half smile tips the right corner of his mouth. I wish the photographers had followed us up here, so he’d have another reason to put his lips on mine again. That is a problem, but I’ll deal with it later.
“Okay, Dred.” Henrick relaxes a little. “Would you like to see the ballroom where your reception will be held?”
“That would be great.”
He leads us down the hall to a set of beautiful white-and-gold double doors. Opening them with a dramatic flourish I sincerely appreciate, he ushers us inside.
“Oh, this is amazing.” It’s fairy-tale beautiful. Chandeliers dripping crystals hang from the ceiling, and the room is a soft cream with gold accents. The floor is polished wood, the round tables are draped with cream tablecloths, and an array of napkins and chair covers in a variety of fabrics have been laid out for us.
But it’s the sheer size of the room that has me leaning in to whisper, “This is huge. How many people are coming to this shindig?”
“All of your friends and everyone my parents know,” Connor says.
“And your friends,” I add.
“I don’t have many of those, as I’m sure you’ve come to realize.”
“What about the guys on the team?” I know from Lexi that he’s closest to Kellan Ryker and Quinn Romero, and that he’s stayed tight with some of his other Hockey Academy connections.