Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Sure, boss,” he says.
“Go pack,” I tell him, relieving him of duty.
He walks away without another word, leaving me alone in the hallway outside Marlena’s door. I knock, but I don’t hear anything. Pushing the door open, I glance inside. The living room is empty, but I can hear the shower running. I decide to give her privacy, so I take a seat to wait. She steps out of the shower a moment later, her body glistening with droplets of water. She’s got a towel wrapped around her chest, but I can imagine how amazing her body looks.
If only her brother weren’t an issue. I wouldn’t mind going for round two on the couch, or maybe even the bed. I clear my throat, standing up so we can be on the same level.
She gives me a shy smile, and that’s even more attractive. For her to be shy after what we’ve just done together is adorable. I want to pull her into my arms and remove that flimsy towel. I want to have my way with her again and again until neither of us can see straight.
Instead, I approach the trip to Italy as if it’s a vacation.
“You said you wanted to go to Italy,” I remind her.
“Not now,” she exclaims. “We have to find Brandon.”
“We found him,” I lie.
“Really?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy.
“Really,” I say. “He’s safe and sound, that’s why I thought it would be a good idea for us to see Italy before we’re married.”
“But I want to see Brandon,” she says stubbornly.
“He’ll be here in a few hours,” I promise.
“Then we can wait a few hours,” she decides.
I look away, forcing myself to remain calm. She’s not going to budge unless I turn up the heat. I need her to see things my way, and this kind of back and forth isn’t going to do it. Damn, she’s argumentative. No one else in my life would stonewall me like this. I’m used to people going along with whatever I say, keeping their mouths shut even if they have questions.
“I already booked tickets,” I lie. “We have to leave soon. I promise we’ll call Brandon when we’re in the air.”
She narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Why don’t you want to wait for Brandon?”
“Like I said,” I repeat myself. “I’ve already got tickets.”
She doesn’t look sure. I can tell that she wants to believe me, but she’s having a hard time letting go of her fear. If only she knew the truth. She has every right to be afraid. But I can’t risk losing her to my rival the same way we lost her brother. I don’t feel bad about prioritizing someone who means a great deal to me over someone I’ve never met. Even if Marlena’s loyalties are torn, mine aren’t.
“So, pack a bag and we’ll get going,” I say, hoping that she’ll let the matter drop.
She doesn’t. “I’m not going anywhere until I speak with my brother,” she says.
I sigh, pretending to give up. “Okay. We’ll wait for Brandon. But in the meantime, I think we could do some shopping.”
She perks up at the word shopping, just like every woman I’ve ever known. “Shopping? For what?”
“You need a few new outfits for our trip,” I explain. “We can go into the city, get a new wardrobe, and be home before Brandon arrives.”
Her shoulders slump. I can see I’m getting through to her. My logic is impeccable, and what woman can resist an all-expenses paid shopping trip? She gives me a warm smile and nods, walking back into the bathroom to do her hair.
I wait until the bathroom door is closed before rummaging through her things. I’m looking for her passport; everything else we can buy on our little excursion. I check the drawers near her bed with no luck. I check the drawers in the living room and come up equally empty-handed.
In the closet in her bedroom, I find a nondescript suitcase. It’s the kind of thing every airline passenger might carry, and the sort of bag that would get mixed up in a low budget comedy. I drag it out and set it on the bed, opening it carefully. If I’m right, this bag holds a lot of sentimental value for her. It’s the perfect thing to take with you if you’re on the run, and once I unzip it, I discover that it’s full of personal items.
I feel like a thief going through her things. This is a woman I care about, and I don’t want to disrespect her. There’s not much of intrinsic value, but some old diaries and a jewelry box. I find what I’m looking for in a zippered pouch, grab it, and thrust it into my pocket. Restoring the suitcase to its rightful place, I hurry out the door.