So you've planned an entire wedding, and you never even asked her to marry you? Pace asks, chuckling at me from behind his fist, like this is the goddamn funniest thing he’s ever heard.
I can’t separate sex from emotion. All day at work, my body is going through the motions, showing overpriced townhomes to eager couples, demonstrating the features like walk-in closets and electric cooktops while my mind runs rampant with thoughts of him.Hale. His firm hands at my hips, his warm mouth on mine, the dark, hungry look in his eyes when he watches me. In his presence I feel alive and wanted, and it’s becoming addictive. I don’t know how I’m going to give him up in a few weeks. These are the terms I agreed to, so why do I feel like I’m being split in two?
My ringing cell captures my attention and I pull it from my purse.My stomach sinks. Before I have time to analyze my body’s reaction, I answer the call. Hello?Where ya been hiding, ladybug? he asks with his playful chuckle that instantly sets me at ease.
I—I don’t know. I realize I’ve been spending all my free time with Hale, and when I’m not with him, his commanding, masculine presence dominates my thoughts. This whole thing is supposed to be about Kirby, and I’ve barely given him a passing thought the past two weeks.Well first, we need to make plans to hang out. And second, I’m thinking of buying a place. I need your real estate expertise. Think you could show me some condos?
That’s awesome, Kirby. Of course I’ll help you.
Cool. This weekend work for you?But I did, Daniel said with a shrug. And a burp.
You couldn’t, Hugh shot back, stumbling for balance. I know every card in the deck.Daniel looked down at the cards. Hugh did, too, at the queen of diamonds, madeira dripping from her neck like blood.
Remarkable, Daniel murmured. He looked straight at Hugh. I won. Fancy that.Was he mocking him? Was Daniel Smythe-Smith, the oh-so venerable Earl of Winstead, mocking him?