Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
I feel myself frown. “Those are probably the least of what I am. I’m also besotted, head over heels in love with you, and missing you like I would miss a limb.”
Her eyes narrow, and she fumes. I can’t say I’ve ever watched anyone fume before.
“Love is so inconvenient, right, princess?”
Lavender huffs her agreement, her hands balling into fists by her thighs.
“Because it makes you want to put that somebody first. You want them to be happy above everything else. You told me you loved him once, remember?”
My princess scoffs. “Yeah, and you knew it wasn’t true.”
“Even before you did, I imagine.”
“And that’s what makes you a colossal turd! Tod told me he loved me tonight.”
“Was it everything you ever imagined?”
“You rotten, horrible bastard. You played with his emotions!”
“No, I think I helped him.” Helped him realize she wasn’t for him by the strength of her reactions, her response. I expect his heart curled up and hid behind his lungs. But he’ll recover.
T. Marius Homeland is no match for Lavender Deveraux.
“He told me a while ago that the only thing stopping him from declaring his love for you was his situation. His financial situation, I suppose. I just gave him a nudge in the right direction, that’s all. You’ve said yourself, you’re no longer mine.”
Lies. Lies. Lies.
“Well, you certainly gave him the means to propose.”
“What?” I take a step closer—an abortive one by force. “He proposed to you? Tonight?”
She nods. “I bet you don’t feel so clever now.”
“A proposal is a little premature.” I take that step. And another. “Unless you’re thinking of committing bigamy, which I don’t recommend.”
“Oh?” Does she realize she’s also stepping toward me?
Maybe she wants to improve her aim.
“You sent him to me with no intention of him winning. Because you love me.”
“I’ve never hidden that from you. From anyone.”
“But you have because the way your stupid lawyer tells it—”
“Former stupid lawyer.”
“All these plans you made, yet Daisy’s dad made it so easy for you in the end. I didn’t get that, so I rang your former stupid lawyer on the way over. Your former stupid cockhead coke head lawyer.”
“How is he?”
“As high as a kite. Again. He told me that day you could’ve dumped me after our wedding weekend and left me with nothing, but I wasn’t really listening to that bit. He explained there was no prenup necessary. That the papers weren’t filed.”
“But I hadn’t fucked you.” We’re so close now, the harsh fricative disturbs the wisps of her hair. “And I wanted to.”
“I know.”
“And you wanted to be fucked.”
She quirks a disparaging brow. “Says you.”
“Says the way your pussy throbbed around my fingers. Out on the terrace, your body under the blue sky. The sun was jealous. It had never seen anything lovelier.”
“Not the sun, you. You hadn’t seen anything lovelier. And you loved me. Two days in, and you were already mine.”
“You intrigued me.”
“I made you mad.”
“If love is maddening,” I whisper, pulling her into my embrace, “I don’t ever need sanity again.”
She sees my intention in the lowering of my head, so there’s time for her to pull away. Instead, she angles her chin, her mouth falling softly open as our lips meet. A kiss of promise, of desperation as my hands tighten and our bodies brush.
“That was quite a risk you took tonight,” she whispers as I pull back.
“Some might say a gamble. But all’s fair in love and cards, princess.”
EPILOGUE
RAIF
One year on
A fat bumble bee buzzes drunkenly by, spoilt for choice thanks to a garden that’s a profusion of summer blooms. It lands on a blowsy cabbage rose, one of hundreds twining the arbor. Agapanthus, nigella, Dahlias, hydrangeas, aster, and Chrysanthemum.
I’ve come to know the names and natures almost by osmosis. It’s what happens when, one year on, you decide to surprise your bride with a day to commemorate a wonderful year of marriage. A year of laughter and love, of hand holding, and shared meals, of kitchen dancing, and long walks that lead nowhere but are filled with the contentment of just being together. A year of lazy Sundays in bed and pancakes that land in your face. Of snatched moments and sex in crazy places. Of disagreements faked just for the pleasure of making up.
The day was a surprise to Lavender, though we had decided we’d hold an anniversary party. Because I’m not a complete monster. Busy with a thriving gallery, she’d happily handed the planning over to Polly. Then, behind the scenes, Primrose and the rest of the Whittington crew conspired to make the day what it has been.
A celebration of our love.
We didn’t make vows a year ago—neither of us thought to take it seriously. Yet, for the whole year we’ve lived by the code of promises never spoken.
I guess I wanted to voice my commitment, to have our family and friends bear witness to the strength of my pledge.