Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
How the hell am I going to get through tonight without ravaging her?
I’m not fucking sure I can.
CHAPTER 14
GRECIA
As we head up the driveway, I’m left speechless when a beautiful, old plantation mansion that’s both sweeping and opulent comes into view. The two floors of white pillars and black metal railings show off the exterior to perfection.
Soft yellow fairy lights sparkle as they trail along the railing of the porch that stretches across the entire frontage of the building. There are people standing in clusters outside, dressed in every designer label you can think of and would coo over.
The car comes to a stop, and the driver exits. He walks around to my side of the vehicle, and having opened my passenger-side door, he offers me his hand, which I accept. Stepping out into the humid evening air, I take a deep cleansing breath. Sitting between Thane and Tarian on the journey here has shot my nerves to hell.
“You look beautiful,” Thane murmurs in my ear as he steps up behind me.
The musky scent of his spicy cologne envelops me, causing me to lean back against him.
“Thank you,” I respond.
I can feel Tarian’s eyes burning into me. But I don’t turn to look at him. I know if I were to meet his gaze, it would be filled with jealousy. He’s made it clear he doesn’t like me near his uncle, which leaves me wondering what would happen if I captured someone else’s attention this evening. Would it finally push him to admit his feelings for me?
Thane’s fingertips brush along the bare skin of my lower back as he guides me toward the entrance to the manor house. Tarian’s on my left, while his uncle is on my right. I feel as if I’m being pulled taut between the two men in a tug-of-war that can only end one way—in an exquisite death.
When we reach the illuminated doorway, a uniformed gentleman offers us a nod in greeting.
“Good evening, Mr. Calvert,” he says to Thane. Then glancing at us, he tacks on, “…and friends.”
“The man of the hour,” a deeper, more seductive tone comes from our left.
A tall, broad shouldered man saunters over to us. He’s dressed in a tailored suit that fits him impeccably. His dark, tousled hair looks like it’s been styled messily, while his smooth, angular jaw is free of stubble. But it’s his eyes that catch my breath. They’re a deep, endless cerulean blue.
“Thorne.” The greeting comes from Thane who steps forward to shake the stranger’s hand. “Good to see you again.”
“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon,” the man, Thorne, responds with a grin that lifts only one corner of his mouth as the dimples in his cheeks deepen and his dark brow arches.
“I know, but my nephew is in town, and I wanted to bring him to see you,” Thane explains, and the man holds out his hand to Tarian.
The two men shake in greeting, but I can read the tension between them that’s caused Tarian to go rigid.
“It’s good to meet you, finally,” Thorne says. Then turning his attention to me, he asks, “And you are?”
I feel his deep blue gaze penetrating me right down to my toes. The depth of his stare is intense, and I offer him a smile.
“Grecia,” I tell him, offering him my hand, which he takes and brings to his lips.
He holds my stare as he presses a kiss to my knuckles. The gesture is gentle but hot and possessive at the same time.
“I didn’t realize Thane knew such beautiful women,” he tells me. “I’m Damien Thorne, eldest son to Edgar Thorne, multi-billionaire and property tycoon.”
“Do you always introduce yourself as a rich asshole? Or was that specifically for me?” I taunt while gifting him a smile that has him chuckling.
“I like you,” he says as he pulls me closer and wraps his arm around my waist. “Let me give you a tour of the house.”
My eyes lock with Tarian’s, and for the briefest of moments, I see in his gaze the green-eyed monster of envy rearing its head.
Damien leads me into the mansion and down a short hallway that brings us out into a dining room where guests are chatting and sipping bubbly from crystal flutes.
“Would you like something to drink?” he questions while beckoning one of the waitresses over. She offers him a shy smile. “Bring me a double Lagavulin eighteen-year-old, and for the lady…” He glances at me with those striking eyes.
“I’ll have a dry white wine, please,” I tell her.
Once we’re alone, he takes the lead again and guides me into an immense glass conservatory that offers a view of the brightly lit, manicured gardens beyond.
Music fills the room along with the soft chatter and laughter of the guests.
“This is beautiful,” I tell Damien as my gaze takes in the spacious room. I can imagine it would look even more spectacular in the daytime with the sun streaming through the glass.