Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 105089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
They were both silent for a moment.
“Damn it!” Immy snapped.
“I know . . . I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t want to upset you. I’m sorry.”
“That means Jenner won the bet,” Immy pouted. “I owe him fifty bucks. He’s going to crow about this.”
“You had a bet?” Cat gave her an outraged look.
“Um, yep, maybe. Sorry?”
Cat just shook her head. “Maeve?”
“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t in on this.” Maeve started coughing again. “I’m really sorry. Talking makes it worse.”
Worry filled her. Maeve was close to graduating college. She’d taken a bit longer to get her degree because she’d been held back in school due to her dyscalculia. Cat just wanted her to move somewhere safer and away from that asshole stepfather of hers.
“Maeve, go rest and get a doctor’s appointment,” Cat ordered. “Let us know how it goes. I love you guys.”
“Love you too, Cat,” Immy told her.
Maeve blew her a kiss in between coughs. Cat had a bad feeling she would be down one friend at her wedding.
She was going to vomit.
The big day was here and Cat was a total mess.
They’d decided to have the ceremony and dinner after in the gardens at Alejandro’s Southampton mansion.
Their mansion.
She would never get used to that. She was standing in one of the spare bedrooms, where she’d decided to get ready. This bedroom was on the ground floor, so she wouldn’t have to navigate any stairs in her enormous dress.
Yep, she had a total princess dress, which was the exact opposite of the dress she’d intended to buy. She didn’t know how it happened. She’d gone in looking for something sleek and sophisticated and had come out with a dress with a corset top and a huge poufy skirt.
“You look like a princess,” Immy said. Her friend had done her make-up and hair.
Alejandro didn’t like letting strangers onto the property and, most definitely, nowhere near her.
So Immy was acting as her hairdresser, make-up artist, and maid of honor. Not that she minded. Bernie and Mrs. Heckler, who looked after the Southampton mansion, were handling all the catering along with Mrs. Heckler’s nieces, who would also act as wait staff.
Her friends were all here for the night. She wished they could stay longer, but Jenner had an upcoming tour. She was so proud of everything he and the others had achieved.
“Are you upset that Maeve isn’t here?” Immy asked. “She’s so bummed that she couldn’t come.”
“What? Oh no. I mean, I’m sad, obviously. But the doctor told her that she couldn’t travel. And I don’t want her risking her health. Isaiah promised to send her the video. Immy, do you mind giving me a few moments?”
“Course not. I’ll go find Sampson and tell him you’re nearly ready. He’ll be getting anxious that you’re going to be late.”
Cat snorted. He so would be.
Breathing out deep, she stared in the mirror again. One pimple had turned into three, but she’d found an amazing woman who’d given her this facial that had kicked those pimples’ asses.
“No pimple is going to ruin my day,” she muttered.
“I’ve been called many things, but a pimple isn’t one.”
She gasped in shock as a man walked in from the patio. “That . . . those doors were locked.”
“They were? Strange? They opened just fine for me.” He grinned at her, his hands in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Almost as though he was trying to make himself appear harmless.
It wasn’t working.
Dark brown eyes moved over her. He was utterly gorgeous. Black hair that was swept back off his head. A slight scruff on his cheeks.
His lips were curled up in a smile.
“There are over a dozen armed and dangerous men in this house who won’t hesitate to kill you for being in here,” she warned. “I’d leave if I were you.”
His smile widened. “Well, you’re not fooled at all, are you?”
Did he have an accent? Before, he’d sounded like he was a born New Yorker, but now he sounded different.
She took a closer look at him. Shit, where was her handbag? She needed her Taser or Mace. “Who are you?”
Mierda. Her bag was upstairs.
You could scream.
She could. But somehow, she thought this man was quick enough to kill her before anyone got there.
If that’s what he was here to do.
“There might be one man who is hesitant to kill me,” he said. “Your husband-to-be. Or actually, it’s just husband since you already got married, didn’t you?”
How did he know that? Was this guy some sort of stalker?
“I think he’d be upset if one of his men shot the best man. Not that I’d let them. I’m very quick on my feet.”
He stilled, staring over at her.
“You’re Ortega, aren’t you?” Now that she said it, she could see the resemblance around the mouth and nose. Ortega was shorter than Alejandro but slightly broader.