Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
That man loved to dance.
And he was currently doing it with my wife, twirling her around as she threw her head back in laughter.
Her chocolate hair falling in wild curls.
I’d had one request for my bride on our wedding day: that she wear her hair down. I’d been expecting an argument about that since the one and only place Calliope obeyed me was the bedroom.
But she just tilted her head and said, “Okay.”
And she’d walked down the aisle, forgoing a bouquet, her father’s arm around hers with her hair spilling over her exposed shoulders, framing and softening her face, wearing a white dress.
It was simple, hugging every one of her curves and ending below the knee. I didn’t know shit about dresses except that she looked fucking mesmerizing in it.
Her heels made her stand almost at the same height as her father, who was tall, a replica of his son except a little less scary. He hadn’t given me any of the fatherly threats when I’d asked to marry his daughter. He’d clapped me on the shoulder, laughing and promising not to tell Calliope I’d asked him for his permission to marry her.
“For what it’s worth, though, I’ve never seen my daughter smile like she has when she’s with you,” he said. “Thought she’d be robbed of life’s simple happiness because she’s so wonderfully complicated. I’m glad the right man came along who’s worthy of her and understands what a treasure she is,” he’d added with glassy eyes.
“I’m well aware of what a treasure your daughter is,” I nodded, speaking sincerely. “As much as she’d dress me down for referring to her as such.”
And she would. Calliope didn’t consider herself a treasure because she didn’t think she was something to be claimed or owned. And because she didn’t consider herself worthy, valuable.
That was something I’d spend the rest of my life proving to her.
I didn’t realize that my brother hadn’t answered my question, even if it was vaguely rhetorical because I was lost in thought about my wife.
It wasn’t until I’d stubbed out my cigar and looked at him that I found him gazing with a frown at the dance floor, something akin to longing in his eyes.
My gaze followed his to where Hannah had Clara on her hip and was spinning her around in a circle, both of them laughing.
I hadn’t missed the way my brother had looked at the nanny when he thought no one was watching. To the untrained eye, it would look like distaste, but I knew my brother a little bit better than that.
“She’s pretty,” I observed.
Beau jolted, realizing I was looking in the same direction. “It’s your fucking wedding day,” he chastised harshly.
I chuckled. “And dare I point out that your nanny is pretty, nice, and wonderful with your daughter?”
He gave me the full brunt of his fury. “And in her fucking twenties.”
I shrugged. “She’s legal. And seems older than that.”
It was true. Although Hannah was unmistakably young, she held herself and spoke better than a lot of adults I knew. And she had something in her eyes that hinted at a harder life than her face betrayed.
“Young enough to be my daughter,” Beau muttered, more to himself than me.
“Not by a long shot, brother.” I didn’t chuckle out loud that time. I knew my brother was doing everything he could to ensure that something he wanted was out of reach, and as much as I wanted to help him attain happiness, it was my wedding day.
“Go and ask her to dance.” I slapped him on the shoulder.
He flashed me another glower as if I’d suggested he bend her over in the middle of the dance floor. I held up my hands. “Or don’t. Stay up here and be a miserable bastard. I’m going to get my wife. Because I’m not a miserable bastard.” I winked at him then went looking for her.
Calliope was leaning against the bar, sipping a martini.
I came up behind her, wrapping my arms around her. She sank into me. I closed my eyes, reveling in her warmth and the gentle rise and fall of her breath telling me she was breathing. It calmed my heartbeat.
I still wasn’t free of the images of her lifeless on that dock. I didn’t think I would ever be.
Calliope put down her glass and leaned back against my shoulder, exposing the pale column of her throat and the dip of her dress leading to the exquisite breasts I was planning on burying my head in between in a handful of minutes.
“I know I paid a lot for the party, and it is excellent, but I’m ready to get back to the hotel room and consummate this marriage. How about you?” she purred.
My palm settled against her stomach, pressing her silk clad ass against my hard cock.