Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I nod. Shift my arm, so it's around her mid-back. Then the other under her knees.
There.
She shrieks as I lift her into my arms.
"Save something for the honeymoon." Marcus smiles. Is he actually charmed? Or is it something else?
He and Diablo exchange a look.
I hold Jasmine against my chest. "I like having you here."
She stares up at me with a smile. But is it for me or them?
"At my mercy." I lean down enough to kiss her. Then I set her down. Wrap my arms around her. Hold her close as I kiss her hard.
She groans against my mouth. Pulls back with a shy expression. "I suppose we should save something for the honeymoon."
"Where are you going?" Marcus asks. "I'm sure I can score you an excellent deal. I have resorts all over the world."
Is that it? He wants to show off? Impress us? Get us to say why, you certainly are an amazing man. I'm so glad to know you and have you on my side.
If it's that simple…
I'm not sure I can kiss ass. But I can thank him for the offer. And Jasmine—
She is used to convincing rich men she thinks they're fascinating. She's good at it.
"Do you have a favorite chocolate, Shepard?" Marcus asks. "I'm partial to beans from Ecuador. But a lot of people prefer the ones from Peru."
Diablo nods.
"I can't say I know the difference. My assistant purchases all my food," I say. "Mostly blends."
Marcus shakes his head in horror. "I'll send you a kit right away. You deserve better."
"I appreciate that." I try to make my smile genuine. "Thank you."
"Nothing too bitter," Jasmine says. "Well, something dark for Shep. To match his soul. But something sweeter for me."
"Milk chocolate?" he asks.
"No, I just like the sweetness," she says. "I'm not big on milk."
She never puts milk in her tea. But isn't that how you drink oolong? Or does she pick teas that don't need milk?
I want every detail.
I want to know everything about her.
I always have, but it's different now. Deeper. Fuller.
Marcus leads us into his cooking room.
He motions for us to take our spots behind one of the long white tables. The room is two tables, plus a display in front. Set up for a demonstration.
I press my palm into Jasmine's lower back to lead her to one of the tables.
Diablo whispers something to Marcus then takes a spot behind the other table.
Jasmine looks up at me. Should I? She motions to the spot next to Diablo.
I'm not sure. I can't read him well. I lean in to whisper. "Do you think it's what he wants?"
She nods yes.
I trust her instincts. "Go."
She smiles. "How about I join you?" She moves to his table. "Since we both like it sweet."
"Your men bitter. Your chocolate sweet?" he teases.
"Maybe not bitter… just… sweet in their own way." She smiles at me.
He whispers something in her ear.
She laughs. It's a big laugh, but it sounds real. Authentic.
Or I can't tell if she's pretending.
I guess it doesn't matter. She's charming them. Of course, she is.
Who could possibly resist Jasmine?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jasmine
Rich men and power.
Which came first? The lust for power or the wealth?
All three of the men here are jockeying for position. For some reason. Something to do with this agreement.
I smile like I don't notice. Let Diablo tease me about Shep's reputation. Smile and shrug I'll never tell.
That's my job here.
I smile. I charm. I look pretty.
Honestly, I don't mind it. It's closer to acting than my old gig. Less kissing ass too.
Men respect a trophy fiancée a lot more than they respect an assistant.
Marcus goes on and on about the cocoa farming process. It's interesting, actually—the process of growing and shelling the fruit, fermenting the beans, breaking them into smaller pieces. What isn't interesting is Marcus's constant bragging.
His farm is the greatest and his farmers are the greatest and his beans are the greatest.
At least he insists on paying his people well. Even if it's for the bragging rights.
I have to admit. The melted chocolate is amazing. Better than any I've ever tasted. Sweet and nutty with the perfect texture.
I lose myself in sculpting it into adorable shapes, adding essential oils, creating a signature bar.
Ginger and dried cranberries.
Of course, it's not what I really want. What I really want is an oolong chocolate. It's possible too. As Marcus explains, I need to keep a finished bar in a glass container with leaves. The fat in the chocolate pics up the flavor through the air.
Apparently, it's easy to scent chocolate.
It even picks up people's perfume.
I guess we're similar that way, absorbing everything around us. Holding on to it. Giving it away later.
But this…
I don't want to hold on to the memories of rich man bullshit. No, I'm holding onto the site of Shep with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, his gloved hands covered in melted chocolate.