Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
I’ve since found out that all those conference trips he went on were actually a cover for taking them on exotic holidays, and I’d bet my life they flew business. They went to the fancy restaurants that we weren’t allowed to go to because it was stupid to spend that much on dinner.
Looking back on all his betrayal, knowing that he treated them with more respect and took them to better places than me was the information that hurt me the most.
He was happy to spend money on a random chick and yet was a tight-ass with the one woman who was desperately in love with him.
The person he was supposed to love the most—his wife.
Blake reaches over and takes my hand in his, pulling me out of the sad memory, and I smile over at him. “Where are we staying?” I ask.
“Somewhere fabulous.”
The car pulls into a grand driveway, and I peer through the front window. The gardens are immaculate, and flaming torches light up the sweeping driveway. Men in white suits stand around the huge fancy doors of the sandstone building.
“My god,” I whisper. “What is this place?”
“I hope it lives up to its reputation.” Blake looks around and shrugs. “So far, so good.”
The car comes to a stop, and the doorman opens my car door. “Good evening.” He smiles.
“Thank you.” I smile as I climb out, and a flurry of men begin to unload our luggage from the car.
“This way to reception,” another man tells Blake.
“Thank you.” He takes my hand and leads me through the foyer. My eyes are wide. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
“I have.” Blake gives me a soft smile as he cups my face.
Butterflies dance in my stomach. He’s so dreamy.
We walk up to the desk. “Hello, we are checking in, please. The name is Blake Grayson.”
“Hello, Mr. Grayson.” The man smiles at both of us as he types on his computer. “My name is Allan, and I’ll be looking after you today. Yes, here we are. We have you staying in the penthouse for six nights?”
“That’s right.” Blake nods.
The penthouse.
I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile, and Blake puts his arm around me and kisses my temple.
“I’ll be back in one moment, sir; I just have to collect your keys from the back,” Allan says.
“Sure.” Blake kisses my temple again.
“You are so affectionate in public,” I whisper, half-embarrassed.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m proud of my girl.” His hand slides down my arm, and he holds my hand up as his eyes drop down my body. “I mean . . . look at her.”
Oh . . .
Allan returns with the keys. “This way. Mr. Grayson. I’ll show you to your room.”
“Thank you.”
We follow him along the corridor and out through a fancy garden with a water feature and down a secluded path. “You have a private infinity pool with your own twenty-four-hour butler.” The sound of the ocean is getting louder and louder the closer we get. It must be right on the water.
I hunch my shoulders up in excitement, and Blake’s eyes dance with delight.
We get to the end of a pathway and go up some stairs. He unlocks the door, and my mouth falls open. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooks the ocean; the furniture is all in creams, and the furnishings are luxurious.
“Wow,” I gasp.
“The pool is out here.” He leads us out onto the deck. “There’s a spa, and the phone inside is for your butler. Call him anytime, twenty-four hours; he is at your service.”
I look around as my mouth falls open. “This is stunning,” I whisper in awe.
“You like it?” Blake rocks up onto his toes, as if proud of himself.
“I love it.” He takes me into his arms and kisses me.
“Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?” Allan says.
Blake’s lips stay locked on mine, and he waves his arm at Allan.
Allan smiles and leaves us alone.
I stare up at my beautiful man. “You’re spoiling me,” I whisper.
He takes my face in his hands. “Get used to it.”
“You nearly ready, Bec?” Blake calls.
“Just a minute.” I hold the curling iron as I finish up my hair. It’s taken longer than I expected. I had to curl it; with the humidity, it’s taken on a mind of its own. Frizzy doesn’t come close to what I’m dealing with here. I glance at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a strapless, fitted coral dress and sky-high stilettoes. I wanted to be in the Cancún frame of mind and wear something colorful and happy.
I keep holding the iron as I try to curl the last piece. “Rebecca,” Blake calls. “We’re going to be late, babe.”
“Coming,” I call as I pull my fingers through my hair to try and calm it down.
Blake comes into view. He’s wearing a black dinner suit and a crisp white shirt with a black bow tie. His sandy hair has a messed-up curl to it, and his jaw looks like it could cut glass.