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Chuckling, she says, “I know I said that’s what I’d love, but I knew it was going to be impossible.”
“I tried to push them harder, you know, offered them more money.”
“You keep doing all these things for me,” she breathes, glancing down at her ring hand and tightening her grip on mine with her other. “You don’t have to. You’re enough. You’re more than enough, Mr. Sinclair.”
Smiling, I let go of her hand and wrap my arm around her as I pause by the steps to give the cameras a moment to snap the photos we’ve been staged for.
Arabella rests her head on my chest, dropping the hand with the clutch down to my stomach with her other holding on to my side.
“Good to know, Mrs. Sinclair.”
She vibrates with a laugh. It’s spectacular with the way she shines in my arms. There’s some commotion down the path where Leo and Cassie are standing. It’s a relief that the press have some fresh meat to feast on. Leo’s gaze catches mine, and he nods with a wink.
Calculated arsehole.
I make a note to thank him later, but for now, I nod back.
“Now, can we go inside?” Arabella asks, shivering. “I’d hate to make the headlines for my hard nipples. I bet your grandmother would love that!”
Fucking hell!
All I can picture is her bare breasts. Bouncing tits and soft skin. My fingers ache to pinch and grope.
My dick stiffens with a jerk.
“Yep, let’s go.”
Turning back towards the doors, I help her up the shallow step into a winter wonderland.
A row of upside-down Christmas trees lead to the grand dark wooden staircase. Delicate white pearl and crystal strings fringe the tree, hanging from every branch with yellow-tinged lights pinging cool rainbows on the chequered floor. With every step we take up the stairs, the more beautiful the scene becomes with white, rooted trunks nesting large silver stars with lit-up crystal centres.
“Holy shit…” Arabella breathes in awe when we reach the landing.
White human statues line the walls with Nutcracker suited waiters bearing ornately etched glass trays with iridescently frosted flutes.
“Your mother is going to love planning their wedding.”
I laugh because it’s true.
A waiter bows in half, offering Arabella a drink, and when he offers me one, Freddie grabs the champagne, handing me a cool tumbler with a large ball of ice and a generous measure of vodka. I can smell the sweetness of the premium liquor.
Some things only money can buy, and great vodka is one of them.
“I’m not really sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. I was expecting more of a tribal theme seeing this is all to raise money for school meals for the kids.”
“What? Because it’s raising money for African children it’s got to be tribal?” Casper shakes his head at him.
“It’s a culture thing, bellend!”
“It’s Christmas, it’s a giving time of year, and that’s what they’re playing on. It’s all about what gets wallets open.” Arabella pushes them both ahead of us. “How busy is it in there?”
“It’s a bit like being the third nut in a two-nut shell. Tighter than a nun’s sna—”
“I got it!” Thank fuck she shuts him up because Casper looks ready to put a hole in Freddie’s skull.
It’s going to be a long night, and although I hope we’ll get to the fucking pretty soon, something tells me that we’re going to be here a while.
Eyes turn to us. Freddie and Casper leave us to mooch around the room. Arabella hands her glass to a plume-skirted waitress before hugging my arm.
