Page 63 of The Wrong Billionaire
“Aw…” I close my fingers around hers.
“My husband,” she whispers.
“Yep. All yours.”
She giggles and presses her fingers to her mouth. Then her eyes turn curious. “Are we really married?”
“’Fraid so.” I smile at Tane as he arrives at my apartment building. “Do you mind bringing her bags up for me, please?”
“Of course,” he says, heading into the underground car park and pulling up in the space with my name on it.
“Stay here,” I tell her, and I get out and walk around the car. I open the door and offer my hand.
She stares up at me. “Mrs. Ashford!”
I smirk and pull her up. “Yup. To love, honor, and obey.”
She pokes me in the chest. “I did not promise to obey.”
“I think you did. I distinctly remember it.” I glance at Tane, who’s chuckling as he gets the bag and case out.
“Wicked man,” she says, leaning against me. “You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe a little.” Tane shoulders Wren’s backpack and lifts out her case. We go into the elevator, and I swipe my card and press the button for the penthouse.
Wren leans her head on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her hair as the elevator rises smoothly up, and then smile at Tane.
“Are you taking the convertible tomorrow?” Tane asks.
“Yeah. We’ll leave mid-morning. It’s only a couple of hours, max.”
“Should be there by lunch.”
“Yeah.”
“Mrs. Maxwell getting everything ready for you?”
“Hopefully. Knowing her we’ll have enough food for six years.” We both chuckle.
Wren’s eyelids are drooping; she’s almost asleep. The elevator slows and stops, and the doors open.
“Come on, babe,” I say. “Nearly there.”
I hold onto her with one arm as we walk out into my apartment. Tane brings the case and backpack in and leaves them at the end of the corridor, next to my case, which is all packed and ready for the next day.
“Anything else I can do for you?” he asks.
“No, that’s fine, thank you.”
“Hope you have a great week, sir.”
“Thanks so much. And thanks for dropping us off tonight. Sorry it’s such a late one.”
“No problem at all. ’Night.”
He goes back into the elevator, and the doors close.
I look at Wren. She’s barely stirred.
