Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Ben wasn’t in the room with her, the faintness of his voice telling her that he was out on the patio, but sound carried in the hush of the late evening.
When they’d returned to their villa after dinner, Lilah had immediately showered and crawled into bed, pleading exhaustion. Ben had informed her that he had work to do and phone calls to make. It had been close to midnight local time, and Lilah hadn’t thought anything of it. Even though South Africa was a mere three hours behind the Maldives, it wasn’t inconceivable that he’d be calling her grandfather or other company executives at that time of night. Their time revolved around Ben. Not vice versa.
Lilah had slipped into a light doze. She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept, but she didn’t think it could have been more than an hour.
“I understand that you didn’t want to ruin the wedding or our honeymoon, but you’re going to have to tell her pretty soo—of course you have to tell her! What? No. Come on, Cy. Don’t say shit like that. I have been facing reality. I feel like you’re the one who hasn’t. That’s not my place…” There was a long, long pause as he listened to whatever it was Gramps was saying. “No. You can’t abdicate that responsibility to me.” Another pause followed by a heated, “And you’re her grandfather! No. No! She’s fine. Yes, she was a beautiful bride… you’re trying to distract me with bullshit. It won’t work.” More silence, then, “Immediately after the honeymoon? Good. Take care of yourself, old man.”
His voice roughened on the last six words and there was a long silence before he swore vehemently beneath his breath. Lilah opened her eyes and her gaze tracked to the patio, which was illuminated by only the blue light from the pool.
She could see his silhouette as he stood with his hands stuffed into his cargo shorts pockets, head bent as he appeared to stare down into the water.
He looked pensive and she wondered what his conversation with Gramps had been about. Well, it had obviously been about her, but what specifically? What nefarious scheme had they cooked up between them now? And how did it involve Lilah? She didn’t like being the subject of discussion between two such bullheaded men. It never boded well for her. It meant they were making decisions on her behalf again. And she resented that. When the hell would they recognize that stripping Lilah of her agency in this manner was demeaning? An insult to her independence and intelligence.
She was about to sit up and ask him what the conversation had been about when something in his dejected posture stopped her. This didn’t feel like Ben and Gramps’s usual strong-arming bullshit, this felt terrifyingly weighty and Lilah wasn’t sure she wanted to wade into this morass just yet.
She continued to watch him warily, not sure she ever wanted to know what this was about.
He turned back toward the villa, his broad shoulders slumped, and she couldn’t remember ever seeing him look this defeated before. She didn’t know what to make of it. She kept her breathing even and lowered her lids until her vision shrank to a sliver. He moved silently as he switched off the outside lights, and then retreated to the bathroom. She heard the muffled sounds of him brushing his teeth and a few minutes later, bathroom ritual complete, he re-entered the room. She once again lay facing away from the bathroom and felt the mattress dip as he climbed back into bed.
The sheets rustled as he settled in beside her and after a few moments, the movement stopped. He sighed. A long, sad sound, and then his breathing settled into a deep, even rhythm.
“Lilah?”
She tensed at the whisper of her name a few minutes later, not sure if she should reply or not.
The uncertainty kept her silent and he sighed again, this time the sound was shaded with frustration.
Lilah awoke to find herself wrapped in Ben’s arms. She must have turned around during the night and snuggled against him—or he had tugged her into his arms—she couldn’t be sure of which. All she knew was that she was pressed to his chest, her legs entangled with his, one arm draped over his waist and the other tucked between them with her hand flat against one hard pec.
Meanwhile, one of Ben’s arms was buried under her neck, while the other was wrapped around her torso. His hand was beneath her t-shirt, his warm, dry palm pressed against her naked back. He was gently stroking her sensitive skin, the movement so subtle it took her a moment to realize what he was doing.
She tensed, opened her eyes and lifted her head, only to find herself staring directly into his cobalt blue gaze. His lids were half-mast, giving him a sleepy look, but there was nothing sleepy in those intense eyes.