Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“Yes, terribly so,” I huff, closing my bedroom door quickly so he can’t see the chaos. I didn’t mean to leave it that way, but I couldn’t figure out what to wear and now it’s like my damn closet exploded.
“Your future husband is definitely going to need to hire a maid.”
“I’d love to see what your bedroom looks like,” I bite out.
“What was that, Elsa?” my mother gasps behind us.
“Mom, it’s not like that.” I can feel the heat flood my face.
“I’ll take that for you now.” He takes my suitcase and then my mother’s and walks away after causing another damn blunder to come tumbling from my mouth.
“Damn it, I really do hate that man.”
“The lady doth protest too much,” my mother utters just above a whisper as she passes by with a light laugh. She has no idea about the kiss and how, even now, he continues to make me feel so confused.
“Ugh, whatever. He better not damage my brand-new suitcase or he’s buying me a new one.”
“Who do you think bought you those?”
“Ugh, why?”
“Ladies, we need to get a move on,” my dad hollers from the bottom of the stairs.
“Come on, or we’re going to be late.” I’m not sure why it matters since it’s our plane, but I’m not going to argue because I’m positive Miles is the reason we’re being rushed. He probably wants to see his family before the party. We’re landing a day early so we have time to relax.
Miles holds the door open for me, as if we don’t have a driver there. “Get in, Princess.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Ivanov. I don’t want to make us late for our own plane,” I scoff, brushing past him and into the vehicle, trying to ignore the way my body vibrates.
“There is a storm coming,” my father says.
“Oh,” I mutter. Miles smirks as he slides in across from me. I’m not sure if I want to throat punch or kiss the smug bastard. Instead, I do neither. Pulling out my phone, I check my emails for the upcoming school year. There is so much happening next week that I have a lot of planning to do that has nothing to do with Mr. Arrogant. A text comes in from my bestie, and I smile.
Can’t wait for the fun to begin.
Counting down the minutes, I text back. The minutes are going to feel like forever being in a confined space with this man.
Maybe you can hang out at my dorm sometimes. I’m living at home, unfortunately, but what can I say—it’s pointless to argue with my parents when my safety is a huge concern.
Maybe. We’ll see. I might be nineteen, but that doesn’t mean I get all the space I want. Being extremely wealthy in Vegas makes me a huge target.
Let me know when you get back.
Okay.
“Ouch,” I yelp, lifting my head to glare at Miles.
“Sorry.” He bangs my ankle with his big old heavy computer bag. I stare at his monogrammed leather bag, and I want to roll my eyes. I wonder if he has matching cufflinks.
“Dang, what do you have in there?” I grumble, rubbing my ankle.
“Work. Sorry, but I have some matters to handle.” He effectively dismisses me and continues to open the bag that is now on his lap.
“Whatever,” I mumble under my breath, going back to my phone. It’s a damn short ride to the airport, so I don’t know why he’s bothering with taking anything out.
When our vehicle turns down the road heading toward the casino, my expression twists in confusion. “We have to make two pit stops—one at the hotel, and the other at the casino.” That explains why he has time to work and the urgency.
The trip to the casino is fast, but then we stop at the hotel and Miles meets with two women outside the hotel. Both are gorgeous women, and the one in red laced heels obviously can’t help but touch his arm twice. I can feel my body shift with tension as they speak. It feels like an eternity.
When he finally returns to the limo, I have to hold my tongue because I’m not anything but the bratty godsister, and I have no right to be jealous even though my entire soul is burning.
“Did she think flirting with you would get a better deal on the booking?” my father asks, seeing the same thing I did.
“I don’t know, but I warned her that one more touch and I’d cancel the wedding reception,” he states.
“Wedding? You’re getting married?” I question, nearly dropping my phone.
“Not anytime soon,” my dad answers.
Miles looks at him strangely and then speaks. “The hotel hosts wedding receptions, and the client wants hers there. Although, if that’s the way she behaves, I’m not sure she’ll make it to the altar.”
Unable to come up with a witty response, I nod and sit back with my eyes closed, waiting for the driver to just get us to the airport. It feels like an eternity before we finally arrive and board the plane. Once we are seated, I take a spot far away from him and lay my head back.