Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 20030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
But one by one, each billionaire had married, and I can still remember how the entire nation went crazy upon learning that their wives were all, once upon a time, "mail-order" brides that a certain agency had arranged for them.
That four impossibly wealthy, devastatingly handsome men would have any need for arranged marriages was absolutely wild.
That they had ended up falling desperately in love with their brides? Even wilder.
And the more I think about it, the more I realize...
Couldn't it happen to me, too?
Even if my husband-to-be is dead set against it?
My spirits perk up, and I'm feeling more than a little giddy as I watch the last car disappear down the tree-lined drive.
Thank You, God!
I've prayed about this while gently waking the children earlier, and it's just so like Him to answer me in a way I didn't see coming. A part of me was secretly convinced that God would ask me to leave Wynd. But instead He's given me another reason to stay.
"You look like you're in a good mood," a voice coolly observes from behind me.
Oh, you absolutely have no idea, Mr. Sullivan.
I turn to face him, a smile still playing on my lips. "Yes, I believe I am."
"Even after what I've asked?"
"Uh-huh."
His gaze narrows, those ice-blue eyes becoming arctic. "I don't like playing games."
"But I do," I counter cheerfully, bouncing slightly on my toes, "so please just play along, pretty, pretty please?"
For one moment, he looks as if he's prepared to walk out on me entirely.
But then another moment passes, and the expression on his gorgeous face changes.
Oh.
Wynd now looks at me like how an older brother would have looked when indulging the whim of a spoiled little sibling. It's not what I'm hoping for, but since beggars can't be choosers, I decide to take this as a win, thank you very much.
My billionaire crooks his finger at me in a gesture that's both commanding and seductive, and yes, in a way that's also elegantly precise.
Honestly, I don't think he's even capable of being anything but.
That's just the kind of man my future husband is, and oh, just the thought of it...
I happily skip toward him, and his lips actually...twitch?!
Oh wow, will you look at that?
My husband-to-be is about to smile again.
Will wonders ever cease?
I stop when I'm just inches away from him, hands clasped behind my back as I look up at him with all the innocence I can muster.
"That would've worked ten hours ago," he says dryly, "but not anymore."
"Whatever do you mean?" I look at him with feigned hurt, but this only has him responding in such a way that has my eyes widening in genuine astonishment.
Oh my.
I guess I stand corrected, with my gorgeous billionaire of ice having just proven his capacity for occasional inelegance.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm just shocked," I admit.
"About what?"
"That you could do this." I do my best to imitate his snort, and...and...and...oh my goodness. Am I hallucinating or did I truly see his lips twitch for the second time?
"You're a lot more trouble than I expected, Ms. Moreno."
I flutter my eyelashes, saying demurely, "I'll take that as a compli—aah!"
I end up crying out when Wynd suddenly sweeps me up in his arms like I weigh nothing at all. The world tilts, and my hands automatically clutch at his broad shoulders for balance.
"W-Wynd?"
But he keeps walking instead of answering, his arms only tightening when I try to free myself, and being imprisoned like this makes my entire body tingle.
In anticipation, not fear.
I can only gulp as he takes me to his bedroom—all dark wood and masculine elegance—and tosses me straight onto his incredibly massive bed.
This is bad.
So, so bad.
The mattress is ridiculously soft, like being caught by a cloud, and it feels like I'm almost being swallowed alive as my weight sink into expensive linens. I try to get up, scrambling toward the edge on my hands and knees, but of course it's too late.
I'm only just about to rise when he's suddenly on the bed with me, moving with that predatory grace that makes my pulse race and my breath catch.
Uh...oh.
The next thing I know, he has me pinned down under the muscular weight of his body, and every rational thought I've ever had simply...disappears.
He's so much bigger than me.
So much stronger.
And so, so virile.
His chest presses against mine with every breath he takes while powerful, muscular thighs bracket my hips, trapping me completely. His enormous length throbs against the most sensitive part of me through our clothes, and I start feeling more than a little dizzy, more than a little delirious and overwhelmed as he pins my arms over my head, his fingers effortlessly circling both my wrists. The position arches my back, pressing my breasts up against his chest in a way that makes me hyperaware of every place our bodies touch.