Total pages in book: 6
Estimated words: 6086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 30(@200wpm)___ 24(@250wpm)___ 20(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 6086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 30(@200wpm)___ 24(@250wpm)___ 20(@300wpm)
“About a week,” I reply. By this time, the receptionist has come back.
“Awesome. Can someone help me with my bags?”
The bell staff doesn’t come in until two-thirty to help with check-in. It’s only noon.
“Anna, I’ll be back shortly,” I say to the receptionist before stepping out into the lobby from behind the desk.
“I didn’t mean for you to have to help me,” she says as I take her bags from the floor at her feet. It’s just two suitcases and a small carry-on. All of which match the large Louis Vitton purse she carries.
“It’s no problem, really. You’re on the tenth floor,” I say, leaving out that her room is right next door to mine. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t know why I did that. I want her close to me.
In the elevator, we both reach for the 10 button, and our fingers touch. Static electricity discharges around us. She gasps. The tension between us is palpable.
“Do you have any dinner plans?” I ask.
“I was just going to order room service.”
“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
“That sounds wonderful. Pick me up at seven?”
I unlock the door to her room and set her bags down.
“See you then,” I say, leaving her to her solitude.
I don’t really know her yet, but I need to. In just the short amount of time I’ve spent with her, she felt different than any other woman I’ve ever known. I haven’t dated since college, and I’ve never slept with a woman. I’ve been waiting for my wife, and she’s just the one I’ve been waiting for. What’re seven more hours?
Chapter Two
Georgia Stockridge
I stand with my back to the door, the scent of his cologne still lingering. He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, and I knew I knew him when I asked if we had met before. Getting away from New York for the summer was just what the doctor ordered. Okay, it was my shrink but still. For my own sanity, Doctor Kylie suggested that I get away from it all and try not to think about what my parents are asking me to do. If only it were that simple. They are asking me to marry some Greek billionaire’s grandson—a man whom I’ve never met, nor do I even know the grandson’s name. I can hear my mom’s voice in my head telling me it’s the least I can do after all the trouble I cause our family in the press. I literally do nothing, yet paparazzi follow my every move like I’m a damn movie star. Nothing. I don’t go to clubs. I don’t flash my pussy when I get out of a limo. I’ve never been out with a man; I don’t make sex tapes; one would actually have to have sex to do that. I never have.
Though to the press, I am the biggest slut this side of the Mississippi. My cousin, Nedeara, is the biggest slut on the other side of it. We’re press magnets through no fault of our own. Nedeara doesn’t do anything either. When the two of us go to church together, you’d think we were hosting an orgy at the cathedral with the amount and type of press we get. I don’t do anything untoward, but still, they follow me. My family has money, lots of it, and I guess that’s enough for people to want to know about every single thing I do, and I don’t get it. I’ve had enough.
Unbidden, a memory from years ago comes to mind. When I was ten, my parents had a huge Christmas party. He and his brother came with their parents. After dinner, I was supposed to go to bed, but I didn’t want to. I threw a little hissy fit, and my parents relented so that I didn’t embarrass them further. By ten-thirty, I was exhausted but determined to see this through. I sat down on the floor by the Christmas tree. A little later on, I heard my name being called.
“Georgia?” The strong male voice shook the room. He sounded a little panicked.
“Yeah?” I answered sleepily.
“What are you doing under there?” the man crouches down and looks under the Christmas tree where I ended up.
“The lights were pretty,” I said.
“Well, let’s get you out of there. Your mama is looking for you.” He held out his hand to me and lifted me up into his arms after helping me out from under the tree. He smelled good to me. I committed that scent to my memory, and I am surprised to realize that he still wears the same cologne.
He took me to my mom and that was the last time I saw him so up close until today. Sure, we’d been at other parties and such at the same time, but I was too shy to go up to him. Now, I’m going out to dinner with him. I had a late night last night, and I’m exhausted. After a quick shower, I fall into bed. I am jolted awake by a loud knock on the door. Sitting up, I look at the clock. 7:01. Shit. The sun is low in the sky, and I’ve slept the day away. Pulling on a robe from the tiny half closet, I open the door. Cain growls when he sees me. His eyes are hooded. He looks fantastic in a white button-down shirt that is unbuttoned a bit, and the sleeves rolled up, showing off some sexy tattoos. With the khaki shorts and boat shoes, he’s got on what I like to call the Florida Uniform. All guys look sexy when they were something like this.