Page 58 of The Wrong Billionaire
Smiling, I dial her number. She answers it in two rings.
“That made me jump,” she says, her voice breathless.
“Hey babe. So you had a good time?”
“Aw, you don’t sound drunk. I thought you were going to be major waffly and slurry.”
“Nah. No slurring and just a little waffle.”
“With maple syrup?”
I chuckle. “Definitely.”
She blows out a breath. “Are we really getting married in two days?”
“Well, I’m going to be there. The rest is up to you.” I stare out of the window. The moon is on the other side of the building, and the Crux constellation is clear in the night sky—four sharp stars, tilted in the dark.
I massage the bridge of my nose with two fingers. I’m tired, and for once I’m not watching what I say. Is she unsure how to reply? I know the way I reacted after her father turned up freaked her out.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I tell her.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No… but I could have handled it better. It frightened me.”
“I know.”
“I thought he’d scared you away.”
“I’ve bought the dress,” she points out.
I wait for her to reassure me that she’ll be there. But she falls quiet.
I guess I won’t know if she’ll turn up until the moment comes.
Then, to my surprise, a message arrives, containing a photo.
I open it. She’s taken a selfie. She’s lying on her back on the bed, same as me, dressed in pink pajamas. Her blonde hair is spread out on the pillow. She’s taken off her makeup, and her face looks flushed and fresh. This is how she’s going to look when we go to bed together. She’s stunning.
Without saying anything, I take a selfie and send it to her. The duvet is pushed down to my boxers so I’m bare-chested.
“Oh…” She sighs. “Look at you.”
“A bit of a mess, I’m afraid.”
“Mmm. You look… sleepy.”
“Yeah.”
“Look at those biceps.”
My lips curve. “Two days, Wren. Then you can feel them for yourself.”
“Are you trying to give me a coronary before my big day?”
I chuckle. “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow, three p.m., right?”
“Yeah. Goodnight, Mars.”
