Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I helped Vivienne out of the car—noticing that strange tingle I’d felt the first time I touched her. What was that? It was almost like a very mild electrical shock. Except getting shocked doesn’t usually make your cock hard—what the fuck was that about?
I didn’t know but I let go of her hand as soon as she was out of the car. I didn’t want her looking at the front of my trousers and thinking I was getting excited just to be alone with her. That might make her think I was some kind of serial killer or rapist—I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to do anything to scare her—she’d already been so kind to me, standing up against that fucking bully back at the funeral home and offering me a place even after he told everyone not to.
Of course, I had never expected to stay. I thought I’d just come to the funeral and speak to Uncle Carter’s lawyer to see if there was anything in the will at all for me. If not, I would have gone straight home. But after that challenge from Murdoch and the fact that it was clear I ought to be the Pack Leader, I wanted to stay. Even if all I did was win the Alpha Challenge and then appoint a different successor so I could go back to my business, it would still be worth it. The people of this pack deserved better than that blowhard bully as their next Pack Leader.
“Well, come inside,” Vivienne said, nodding at me. I handed her the car keys, which she put in her purse, and then we walked up the curving path to the front doors, which were at least two stories tall and perfectly enormous.
But though the doors looked like something you might find in a fancy French chateau, they had been modernized. Fingers flying rapidly, Vivienne punched a series of numbers into an electronic keypad. After a moment I heard a beep sound from the right-hand door and the lock popped open.
I hurried to pull the door open, and she stepped inside as I followed.
Once inside, I took some time to admire the house. The front doors opened onto a marbled foyer bigger than my entire living room. There was a grand staircase curving upwards and several smaller rooms leading off the main area. Everywhere I looked, the house seemed to scream, “Old Money!” There were paintings by the Old Masters on the walls as well as tapestries that had to be hundreds of years old.
I was so busy looking around, I didn’t notice that my new benefactress was taking off her hat and the veil attached to it.
“I hope you like Wolverton Manor,” she was saying.
“Yes, it’s really—” I started to say but broke off abruptly as I turned to her and saw her bare face for the first time.
My thoughts and words stopped together and I’m afraid I simply stared at her.
She was utterly fucking gorgeous.
FIVE
VIVIENNE
He kept staring at me.
I wondered what he was looking at. Was my hair out of place? Did I have something on my face?
I couldn’t help thinking of the way Carter used to criticize me all the time.
“What’s wrong with you, Vivienne? You’re a mess. What have you done with your hair? Did you change your makeup? You look like a clown!”
And on and on and on…the criticism literally never stopped. Whenever my late husband noticed me at all, it was only to tell me what was wrong with me.
I put a hand to my face, wondering what the problem could be. Kor’s eyes kept returning to my eyes and then my lips. What could be wrong?
“Do…do I have something on my face?” I asked hesitantly.
“What? Oh, no—nothing like that,” he said quickly. “I just…didn’t expect you to be so beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” I thought I must have heard him wrong. No one had ever called me beautiful before—not since I got married to Carter, anyway. He had only looked at me to find fault.
“Well, yes. I mean, look at you—you’re fucking gorgeous.”
He actually sounded serious and the look on his face, when I dared to glance up at him, said he wasn’t joking around.
My face flooded with heat, and I tried to laugh.
“You must be mistaken—I’m past forty—over the hill. I don’t even have Heat Cycles anymore.”
“You certainly don’t look over the hill,” was his answer. Then, seeing I was blushing, he looked abruptly abashed.
“Look, I’m so sorry—I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, you didn’t!” I said quickly, although to be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. “I…I just…no one’s ever said that to me before.”
“They haven’t?” He looked genuinely surprised. “I don’t understand that. Didn’t Uncle Carter ever compliment you?”
This time my cheeks heated with shame. How could I explain that my late husband had looked at me only to find fault? How could I tell him that Carter constantly told me what was wrong with me…but never anything that was right. Even on our wedding day he only looked me over and said, “She’ll do, I suppose.” And that was pretty much the nicest thing he ever said.