The sensations inside her felt like she was strapped into a roller coaster-one of those wild ones that launches you up into the clouds, only to drop you back down again, leaving you weightless as a marshmallow floating in the air.

Sylvia knew her brain was coming up with the weirdest metaphors, but that's just where her mind went.

Pleasant, but also seriously freaky.

Mark stared at her for a moment, his eyes lingering. "Excited, huh? Feels good, doesn't it? You're even more my type than in your pictures."

Pictures?

Type?

What was he getting at?

Sylvia barely had time to process before Mark unzipped a bag he'd stashed in the corner of the private lounge.

When she saw what was inside, cold terror rushed through her. She started to struggle, every muscle tensed.

Mark just grinned, moving closer with whatever he'd pulled from the bag.

...

Private Lounge.

dinner for Rupert was hosted by Tristan's cousin-Charles-who also ran

to family tradition, Rupert was supposed to address him and his brother as Uncle Charles and

the two men and their families didn't even bother to

this wasn't London or New York. Rupert

the woman with him, then gestured to the seats at

matter what, Rupert and she were

Rupert..." she started, her voice quietly

gently steering her to the assigned

the table had clearly already been picked through, and even the wine bottle was half

napkin onto a plate piled with chicken bones and said casually, "Charles and I were hungry, so we

a warm welcome.

problem. I'll have the staff bring some chicken soup over. Bridget's got

her cheeks pink. "Mr. Rupert, I'm

Charles and Uncle Steven

the rumors are true, you two really are in love. We'll be

basking in the attention. "You're too

arrived, Rupert checked its temperature himself before

you don't need to worry so much about the

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255