Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 34243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Kiss, kiss.
Ms. Tea for Tat
I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M crying as I read Miss Tea for Tat’s column. Actually, I don’t even know why I’m reading it on my wedding night of all times.
The glossy special-edition printout is heavy in my lap, the kind of paper-stock the column only uses for what they’re calling Foxtown’s Bridal Edition, and the edges are already softening from how many times I’ve held it.
Maybe it’s because this column is proof that there is still goodness in this world.
There are times when that day in Foxtown seemed an eternity ago, but there are moments like now that I just have to close my eyes, and I would be back in the park, it’s the Second Night ball again, and Arkane and I are standing next to each other as we make our request.
“We have been made aware of certain news about Ms. Azucara circulating, relating to what was a private tragedy that she and I shared.”
“We understand you’re all within your rights to refuse. We’re not going to ask you to sign a non-disclosure. But all the same, we would appreciate everyone’s discretion so, so much about this matter. And in return, it would be our greatest pleasure to welcome you all back to exclusively cover our wedding.”
And shockingly enough, they’ve all kept their word. It’s been weeks now, and there still hasn’t been a peep. Even more shockingly, I finally figured out by process of elimination the identity of Icelle’s secret crush and—
Knock, knock, knock.
“Are you decent, Mrs. Young?”
There’s no chance to answer. The door’s already opened, and the man I secretly married in a quiet chapel wedding three hours ago has already walked inside our bedroom with the most wicked-looking smirk on his lips. He’s lost the jacket somewhere between here and downstairs, his shirt undone at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbow.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t be—”
I’m sputtering, blushing, and gulping all at the same time. A part of me is still finding it impossible to handle how open Arkane is, now that we’re married.
“But it’s fine. I can work on it on my own.”
What does he mean—oh!
The glossy special-edition printout falls from my fingers as Arkane sweeps me off the couch.
“I missed you, princess.”
The way he’s looking at me as he says this is just...ugh.
He’s too, too perfect that sometimes, I’m still tempted to think he’s still who I thought he was the first time.
Mr. Not Real.
“You’re supposed to say something back.”
A helpless smile touches my lips at the seriousness of his tone. “You know I missed you, too.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t need to say it.”
“So clingy,” I tease.
“Blame my wife,” he answers mockingly. “She’s so obsessed with me, I learned it from her.”
I’m still stammering by the time he lays me down on his huge, huge bed, the cool linen of the coverlet against my back, and GULP.
“You’re nervous?”
I guess he noticed me swallowing hard.
“A little.”
Because another thing I learned about his time with Mirabella was how, for so long, he had blamed himself for not being careful, and that was why, with me, he had never let us get past...a certain point.
But now that we’re married, and we both know we want a baby?
“It’s the way you’ve been looking at me.” My tone is breathless, my heart racing, and I’m not sure if it’s out of excitement or fear. “You...you make me feel like I’m something to be devoured.”
“You are.”
I start to laugh...but stop when he only smiles at me.
Like a wolf.
“Um, A-Arkane—”
“Relax, princess.”
He has never ever crooned to me like this.
“I promise I’ll take care of you...all night.”
That...
That sounds so good—
I mean, terrible.
Terribly good—
I mean—
I mean—
Aaaaaah!
The End