Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“Look at me,” I say gently, and she does, albeit on a sigh. “What’s the problem?”
“This is too much,” she says. She’s wrong. It’ll never be enough. “I just want you.”
I laugh to myself. Then why the hell is she so fixed on delaying making me hers officially? “I’m glad, but I’ve never had anyone to share my money with, Ava.” I pout, trying for adorable again. “Please humor me.”
“People will think I’m marrying you for your money.”
Yes, because I look like a shipwreck. For fuck’s sake. “I couldn’t give a fuck what people think. It’s all about us.” I roll over so I’m facing her, tugging at her waist impatiently to join me. “Now, shut up.” She’s talked about a whole load of irrelevant things this morning. Enough.
“You won’t have any money left if you spend like you did yesterday.”
I’m laughing to myself again. I couldn’t spend my millions in twenty lifetimes. I struggle to spend the interest. “Ava, I said shut up.”
Her dark eyes sparkle, and I see her softening. “Make me.”
No problem. I roll onto her and plunge my tongue deeply into her mouth, starting the first phase of my plan to keep her at home with me tonight. And she reciprocates beautifully, giving me all of the sounds.
“Hmm, you taste good,” she says as I roll us onto a pile of likely obscenely expensive dresses. She bites my lip and straddles me, pushing her palms into my pecs and rising to sit, glancing around at her new wardrobe. She’s smiling. “I guess we should move this.” She quickly looks overwhelmed again. “Where am I going to put it all?”
“In the dressing room.”
“The dressing room is full of your clothes.”
“Then I’ll make room.” I sit up and slap a kiss on her lips, taking her hips and lifting her off my lap and standing. I strip out of my clothes under her curious eyes, all the way down to my boxers.
“What are you doing?”
“Preparing to work up a sweat.” I silently delight at her inability to not take in every glorious piece of me. “Earth to Ava,” I whisper. She looks up at me. “Okay there?”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re starting the process.” She stands and gathers up a pile of clothes, turning and walking away.
“What process?” I call to her back.
“The process that you think will mean I will stay home with you tonight.” She stops at the bottom of the stairs. “It won’t work.” I scowl, and she smiles. “Besides, I have a ton of new outfits to try out.” She takes the stairs. “I might go out tomorrow night too.”
“You’re fucking not,” I say, my bubble burst.
“Come along now, dear. Make yourself useful.”
I dip to scoop up some clothes, thoroughly pussy-whipped—couldn’t give a fuck—and smile, but it falters, my body half bent. Ava called Kate and she hasn’t mentioned anything about last night. Which definitely means Kate has not told Ava.
I abandon her clothes and go to the kitchen, finding my phone, stalling when I see it’s moved. I look back at the door.
“What’s taking you so long,” she yells. “I’ll be here a whole year.”
“Hopefully,” I grumble, returning my attention to my mobile. Definitely moved. I scoop it up and go to my call history, withdrawing when I see one from Coral twenty minutes ago. And it wasn’t a missed call. “What the fuck?” I whisper, opening the details. Forty seconds. It’s not long, but really fucking long. A lot can be said in forty seconds. So what was said, and why hasn’t Ava mentioned it? I bite at my lip, looking at the doorway when Ava appears, smiling, her cheeks flushed.
“Come on, muscles, I have half of Harrods to get upstairs.”
I force a smile and discard my phone, moving in on her and tossing her over my shoulder, slapping her arse. I don’t know what was said, but she’s still here and she’s still talking to me, so I assume Ava was the one to speak the most, and after this morning, I can’t imagine it was all very pleasant. She’s trampling. Fine. I’m done with Coral. Ava can have at her. But she’s got a nerve being in my phone when she’s kicked up such a stink about me playing with hers.
“Carry the clothes, not me,” she says, laughing. I dip, Ava still on my shoulder, and grab a few bags, passing them back to her before getting some more. Then I take the stairs up to the dressing room and lower everything to the carpet, Ava last. She blows her hair out of her face and starts walking up and down, scanning the rails, and I look around my feet, lowering to pick up something familiar. I frown at the dress. The very short, very skimpy gray dress. This was a no. What the fuck, Zoe? I’ll be calling her. And this dress will be disappearing the moment Ava’s not here. I drop it on a snarl and look up, finding Ava looking overwhelmed again.