Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
“Nope,” he says, blowing out his cheeks.
“Why?” Because he’s afraid of what she might say?
“She’s a woman. Who the fuck knows what goes on in their heads.”
I laugh through my fitful breaths. “Talk to her.”
“Maybe. Catch you later.” He slams on his brakes, kicking up a cloud of dust, before screeching off toward The Manor.
I reach the end of the driveway and take a hard right, intending on completing three full laps of the grounds—anything to kill some fucking time. I pull off my T-shirt and toss it to the ground carelessly. Maybe I’ll sleep for the final hour of this torturous wait.
I glance down at my watch. I’m in a fucking time warp.
Abstain. Abstain. Abstain.
I can’t.
I’ve tried. I’ve tried so fucking hard.
I need to see her.
All I can hear is Elizabeth’s ear-piercing voice in my head trying to convince Ava to wait a while before committing to me. It’s driving me fucking insane.
I pelt up the steps to the entrance, nearly knocking Mario from his feet as I barge through the doors. “Mamma mia!” He staggers back, shouting obscenities in both Italian and English as I take the stairs three at a time.
“Sorry,” I call, flying around the gallery landing until I land at the door to our suite.
I go to grab the handle, but quickly consider the response I’ll receive from her mother if I burst in. I need to play my cards right. So I tap as gently as I can, which isn’t very gently at all.
“Just a minute,” Elizabeth calls. I sag slightly with the confirmation of her presence, just as the door swings open and her eyes immediately bulge. And then she shrieks, making me stagger back a little.
“Fucking hell, Elizabeth.” I cover my ears as she yells some panicked words, then slams the door in my face.
My arms drop, and so does my jaw. “What the fuck?” I take the handle and push all my weight against it, knowing she’ll be shoved up against the other side to hinder my attempts to gain entry.
“Open the door, Elizabeth,” I call through the wood, giving her a fair warning, so that if I force entry, it’s entirely her fault if she lands on her arse.
“Jesse, you and I are going to fall out if you don’t do as you’re told.”
Oh please. “We won’t fall out, Mum,” I say, not helping my cause. But still. She’s impossible. “. . . if you let me in.” I smile, picturing her sour face. She’s really quite wonderful, but she’d be even more wonderful if she lost the incessant need to interfere and block me from her daughter.
“Jesse Ward, you do not get to call me mum when I’m only nine years older than you,” she huffs, telling me she clearly thinks my age is an issue. It makes me nudge against the door harder. “Now go. You’ll be seeing her in half an hour.”
“Ava,” I yell. If she hears I’m here, she won’t be able to resist seeing me. I just know it. Fuck tradition.
“Jesse, no!” Elizabeth yells, her strength quite surprising as she keeps me at bay. “Oh no, it’s bad luck. Have you no respect for tradition, you stubborn man?”
“Let me in, Elizabeth.”
“No,” she retorts, short and sharp. If there was any question as to where my beautiful girl’s stubbornness comes from, then I’d wonder no more. “He is not . . . oh! . . . Jesse Ward!”
I’m firm but careful as I overcome her hold of the door and push into the suite, immediately scanning the space and finding Ava. The world stops turning for a moment as I drink her in, like I’m looking at her for the first time all over again.
“Well,” Elizabeth huffs. “Ava, tell him to leave.”
Ava’s eyes meet mine, and a silent understanding passes between us. She knows what I need. “It’s fine, Mum. Just give us five minutes.”
I smile on the inside, trying to keep hold of the last piece of respect I have for Elizabeth, which is currently stopping me from ravaging Ava.
Kate moves in. “Come on, Elizabeth. Just a few minutes won’t hurt.”
“It’s tradition.” She’s squawking again as she’s guided past me, her eyes catching sight of the mark on my pec. “What’s that bruise on his chest?”
My shoulders relax as I hear the door close, but I’m too busy losing myself in Ava’s dark eyes to check if we’re really alone. Her gaze drifts all over my sweaty body, almost as if she’s reminding herself of every plane, muscle, and ripple, before her stare meets mine again. I have a far better reminder in mind.
“I don’t want to take my eyes away from your face,” I whisper, my cock starting to pulse relentlessly, imagining the lace I know I’ll see if I cast my gaze downward. Fuck me, confirmation is likely to make my shorts blow off.