Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Or you could talk to him,” Stefania says, interrupting me.
“I already said no. I’m not supposed to contact him before the wedding, remember?”
“Sorry, babe, but what happens if he talks to you?” She squeezes my arm and gives me a huge grin and a cold chill runs down my spine.
As another voice cuts into our conversation.
It’s deep and masculine. Cold even, neutral, no emotion at all in its inflection.
“Elena Bianco. You don’t belong here.”
I take a deep breath and turn around.
Brody Quinn’s standing a few feet away. A white towel’s slung over his shoulder and his powerful arms are crossed over his chest. The muscles bulge, and they are lovely muscles, I can’t even pretend like I don’t want to nibble and lick my way along those gorgeous forearms.
“Good luck,” Stefania whispers and she gives Brody a little wave as she hurries off, the absolute fucking traitorous monster. I’m about to call her back, but the words die in my throat as Brody steps closer.
He’s big. He looms. The guy’s the size of a refrigerator. I have no clue how he’s a lawyer when he looks like he should be a linebacker. I have to crane my neck to stare into his eyes—and they’re bright green, just like I thought they’d be.
“Don’t call me Elena,” I say and my stomach’s doing Olympic Gymnast-style flips. “You can stick to wifey instead.”
Oh my god, what a bad joke. It’s the worst joke in the world. I swear, if I could squeeze myself into a little dense black hole and pop myself out of existence, I’d do it. Jokes are my defense mechanism, but that was just so awful, I deserve to go to prison for a very long time.
His face shows nothing. No smile, no snort, no emotion at all. He keeps staring at me like he didn’t hear what I said, and I wonder if maybe I have the wrong guy, but then he steps closer and leans in, and I catch his smell. It’s slightly musky with a spicy deodorant undertone, and it’s shockingly pleasant even though the guy’s damp with sweat. I breathe him in and my stomach moves on from flips to straight-up high-dives.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, his voice a slow growl, a low bass rumble. I could set a beat to that voice and shake my ass for hours.
“Look, I’m not stalking you, okay? And I know that’s exactly what a stalker would say.”
His eyebrows raise. No response.
“But I just wanted to see the guy I’m going to marry before the actual wedding day, okay? I’m not having second thoughts or anything like that. I just wanted to see you in the flesh and make sure—” Make sure of what? That he didn’t have two heads? That he wasn’t a monstrous woman-devouring troll?
His lips press together in something resembling a smile. But much more terrifying. Fear runs down my spine, and even though there are people milling all around us, I feel like we’re extremely alone.
“Come with me,” he says and grabs my arm. His hand is big and strong, and when I resist, he tugs me harder after him.
“Okay, this is getting weird. Why are you dragging me right now?”
“We’re going to talk in private before someone sees us together.” His jaw is tight and he’s headed straight for the saunas.
For the hot, sweaty, cramped saunas.
I feel my feet start moving. My heart’s racing into my throat. This is bad, this is very bad, because it’s breaking all the rules, and I never break the rules. That’s sort of who I am: good Elena, proper Elena, sunshiny and happy Elena. I’m the lightness when everything around me is constantly heavy.
But there’s something about the look on Brody’s face. It’s serious, intense even, but when he reaches the door of an empty steam room and glances back at me, I spot it again.
An intense longing.
“Get inside,” he says.
And even though every alarm bell’s screaming in my head, I do it.
Chapter 2
Brody
The steam presses against my skin as I close the door behind me. Elena Bianco, my future wife, sits on the bench, leans back on her hands, and quirks her eyebrows.
Sweat begins to bead on her tanned skin.
This is beyond fucked.
She shouldn’t be here right now. When I cut the deal with her brother, Simon was extremely clear. We aren’t supposed to fraternize until after the wedding is official. Something about making sure nobody gets cold feet.
“Your brother made it clear that we’re not to have contact,” I say and force myself to sit right next to her. I crowd her personal space because I’m big and this room is pretty small, but also because I want to be near her. She’s fucking gorgeous, way more beautiful than I knew. Long, thick dark hair, big brown eyes, and an absolutely stunning figure. The workout gear looks borderline lascivious on her like a layer of fucking spandex isn’t enough to hold her gorgeous curves in check.