Wildest Dreams (The Wilds of Montana #3) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Wilds of Montana Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
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“Hell yes, we are,” London replies with a grin.

“The boutique has my card on file,” Ryan informs me as he also pulls me in to kiss me. “Get whatever you want. Don’t look at price tags and freak yourself out.”

“Ryan—”

He covers my lips with his. “Don’t freak yourself out,” he repeats. “And have fun.”

“Thank you.” I cup his cheek and smile up at him. “I already am having fun.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

RYAN

“Iactually have work,” Drew tells me after the girls have left. “I think I’ll head back to our suite for a while and hammer some of it out.”

“I can get on board with that,” I agree. “I have some things to see to myself. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“See you,” Drew replies and lets himself out of the suite.

I open my computer and am in the middle of replying to an email when there’s a knock on my door.

With a frown, I set the computer aside to open the door to find both of my security details here.

“We have a situation,” Mark, the head of my European team, says.

“Come in.” I step back, glad that Polly isn’t here for this. When both men are inside, I close the door and turn to them. “What’s going on?”

“We got word that Claudia Dubois is here in Paris,” Mark replies.

I narrow my eyes on him, not thrilled, but also not surprised. “She’s a runway model. Of course she’s in Paris.”

“This isn’t ideal, sir,” Mark says with a sigh. “I can find out which shows she’s working and make sure you and Polly don’t attend those.”

“Fuck that.” I push my hands through my hair, frustrated. “I’m not about to let the likes of Claudia Dubois intimidate me or keep Polly from experiencing anything she fucking well pleases on this trip.”

“We know she’s unstable,” Mark says with a shrug. “And could very likely make a scene.”

“Then she makes a scene.” I brush it off. “It’ll be her own reputation she hurts, and I don’t give a rat’s ass. Just make sure that Polly isn’t hurt in any way.”

“Understood,” Mark says with a nod. “One of us will be nearby twenty-four seven. I’ll have a man outside this door, and we will go with you when you’re on the move, just in case.”

“Is someone on Polly now, while they’re shopping?”

“Affirmative. She didn’t bat an eye. She must assume it’s normal for you to have detail at all times.”

“Good. If she asks, I’ll tell her it’s the norm. Keep her safe. She’s the only priority.”

“Sir, I hate to disagree with you, but you’re our priority.”

“Fuck that. I can protect myself. If anything happens to Polly, I’ll have your heads.”

Mark nods, understanding in his eyes, and then the two men leave.

Two hours later, Polly and London return, carrying shopping bags with smiles on their faces.

“We’re back,” Polly announces and holds up a sack and a garment bag. “I got some loot.”

London frowns down at the floor, but Polly doesn’t notice. She hurries over to me and offers me her lips, which I happily kiss, before she steps away again.

“I have to run to the ladies’ room,” she announces before rushing off.

“What’s up?” I ask London. “It doesn’t look like she got much.”

“She didn’t,” London confirms. “She looked at a lot of beautiful things, but she just wouldn’t take the plunge. She ended up with a nice blouse and a scarf.”

I blink at her and scowl. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” London sighs. “I know there were bags and shoes she was practically salivating over. And when we went to Dior, there was a dress that would have been divine on her—was divine on her because I talked her into trying it on. But when she saw the price, she declined it.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and drag my hand down my face. “Okay. I’ll take her tomorrow.”

“You’ll have better luck with her,” London says. “And maybe she’s tired. It’s a long travel day, jet lag, and all that jazz.”

“You’re right.” I nod as Polly walks out of the bathroom.

“I’m hungry,” she announces. “When’s dinner?”

“We have reservations in,” I check my watch, “fifteen minutes. You two are just in time.”

“Should I change?” Polly asks.

“You look great,” London assures her. “No need to change.”

“Good.” Polly’s shoulders fall in relief. I can see the fatigue in her face. I would rather stay in, have room service, make love to her, and then sleep. But I know that she wants to spend time with our friends, too. Polly smiles at me. “Let’s go eat.”

“Now this is a breakfast,” Polly says the next morning after room service has set up the table and left us alone. “Are those chocolate croissants?”

“Yes.” I grin as I pour her coffee, add the cream and sugar she likes, and deliver it to her in bed. Then I put the croissant, some berries, and yogurt on a plate and bring it to her, as well.


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