Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I managed to get a few more dances with my wonderful husband, fitting him in around requests from Rudy and Ian and Michael.
“So, I’m thinking of calling you Mother Elwood now,” Michael said, playfully spinning me under his arm.
“I think you’ll regret that,” I warned. Then, I stubbed my toes against his shoe. “Just like I’m regretting that. Ouch.”
“I’m not going to tell Emma that happened,” he swore. “She’s already deemed your shoes too ridiculous to wear.”
Okay, Emma may have had a point. My strappy black Fendi stilettos with Swarovski crystal embellishments were hot, but they had a four-and-a-half-inch heel. I should have considered optional flats.
The night passed in a rush; I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. At midnight, like Cinderella, Neil and I made our getaway. The reception would continue into the night for our guests, but we had a plane to catch. I’d changed into a floaty gold silk maxi dress with spaghetti straps that would be comfortable for travel and light and breezy when we arrived in Papeete. We dashed through a crowd of our remaining guests beneath the Baccarat chandeliers in the lobby. My mom caught me for a hug, and Rudy halted us again to kiss both of us on the cheek. Outside, on the steps of the grand entrance, my single friends waited. I tossed my bouquet to them as we hurried to our escape vehicle.
“They’ve decorated the car,” Neil observed through his tightly clenched smile.
“Yup.” I waved to my mom and my aunt Marie, who’d come outside to see our reaction. They looked pleased with themselves for helping.
Neil held the door for me, saying low beside my ear, “They put chalk paint and soda cans on the back of my Maybach.”
I caught Tony’s eye as he closed my door, and he smirked. He’d watched the whole thing happen, and he’d let it. I laughed, and then, I couldn’t stop laughing. My heart bubbled over with a sudden surge of effervescent happiness, and I choked back tears of joy. I blinked and composed myself to smile at our guests as Neil got in beside me.
As we pulled away to the sounds of our cheering friends and family, I turned to Neil. “Wow. So…that was fun.”
“And exhausting.” He leaned against the corner of the door and the seat and slumped down.
“I know. I can’t wait to get these shoes off.” My chest hurt; I was happy to bursting. “At least we’ll be able to sleep on the plane.”
Well, I hoped we’d be able to do more than sleep on the plane. It was our wedding night, after all. I read enough historical romances in high school to know that I was supposed to be ravished tonight.
“About that.” Neil sat up and coughed into his fist. “You stayed reasonably sober, didn’t you?”
I pressed my thighs together. “Mmm, yes, I did.”
“Well, I have a surprise, then.” He reached for me and pulled me close to lean on him. “Go to sleep. We’ve got a drive ahead of us.”
I frowned up at him. “I thought the jet was standing by?”
“I told you, I have a surprise. Now, listen to your husband and do as you’re told.”
I sat up and gave him a warning glare, but he had already dissolved into laugher. “I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I can’t say that and keep a straight face.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Sophie? We’re here.”
I blinked awake with some difficulty. My mascara had turned into cement while I’d slept. The facade of a building showed through the windows, and it took me a moment to recognize it as the model Pavillon Français on our property. The upward grazed lighting illuminated the nook where the center chamber met two of the outer four rooms. The building was a cross with an octagonal middle, and we were parked between it and the huge fountain in the drive. While the grounds weren’t to scale, the previous owners had gone to the trouble of recreating some of the water features.
We’d celebrated my birthday here, and it had been unbearably romantic, but it wasn’t the sort of thing you just kept around. “I thought you were going to renovate this.”
Neil took my hand and helped me from the car, and I staggered a little on my tired legs. “I did have it renovated. I think you’ll like some of the changes.”
We entered the main salon, the towering center of the building. My heels clicked on the inlaid marble floor. Unlike its counterpart in France, this version of the Pavillon had electric candlelight. Neil took the remote off the wall and turned up the lights, bathing the room in soft, subtly flickering illumination.
One of the “renovations” was quite obvious. A black steel frame stood vertically in the center of the room, shackles dangling from all four corners. A table stood nearby, its gleaming white marble top bearing all sorts of tantalizing goodies. Three paddles, one of unadorned black leather, another that was a bit wider with dulled, square metal studs in a grid, and a larger wooden one with rows of small holes drilled through. A set of nipple clamps. A long black cord threaded through wooden, spring-style clothespins. The wireless wand.