AllFreeNovel
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A lifetime where our past didn’t exist.
A past without guilt.
Without thorns.
The intense ride ends after what feels like ages, when in reality it was an hour despite the traffic. The driver opens the door for me while Dash steps out from his side and I’m crushed when he doesn’t react as the strange man takes my hand to help me out. He quietly waits by my side until I right my clothes and guides us inside the luxury jewelry store, which appears to be closed from the outside.
The guard at the door holds it open for us and I’m proven right when I notice that it’s empty except for the two of us and a beautiful woman welcoming us with a polite smile. Her blonde hair is sleek and shiny as it falls down her back in waves and she steps forward, then greets us.
“Good evening, Mr. Stern.” I notice her eyes stay on Dash a little longer but it’s enough for jealousy to flare inside me. Next, she turns to me. “Miss Chopra. So nice to have you both here. I’m Chloe and I’ll be helping you today. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the pieces I’ve set up for you in the back.”
As we follow her, I’m struck by the ambience of the store and the gorgeous diamond pieces adorning each of my sides. Each one, more mesmerizing than the last. The two chandeliers alone are made of intricate gold patterns. I thought I had seen luxury but this is in a whole other league.
“Are we the only ones here?” I whisper to Dash. Since we came during the day, I thought at least a few customers would be inside shopping.
Dash doesn’t miss a beat as he replies smoothly, “Yes. I wanted privacy.”
My goodness. Is this real?
Who books a whole store just to shop privately and just how rich and powerful do you have to be for them to actually consider it? In a whole other country, no less. Well, the answer is becoming a billionaire. The sky’s the limit once you are one, apparently.
I feel like I’ve stepped into the body of Vivian from the moviePretty Woman.Except,I didn’t grow up poor and I’m definitely not a prostitute.
If I’m being honest, though, I can’t seem to enjoy any of it with him being a moody jerk. I have the insane urge to shake and yell at him until he goes back to being mischievous and possessive.
Knowing his famous control, he either won’t react or easily manhandle me into submission. That’s if I’m able to move him in the first place. My strength is no match for his.
The back of the room is way prettier and classier than the one we came from and notice that it has less pieces on display. These pieces, however, look more expensive and one of a kind. We are seated on a comfy sofa in front of a round glass table and soon, two glasses of champagne are served. Dash refuses while I grab mine.
I’m here so I might as well enjoy myself. Everything else revolving around this trip has gone downhill since we arrived. And yes, I know I’m to blame. Another video call is due with my best friends to take their help to turn this trip around. I glance briefly at my broody fiancé and I do something I never would’ve until yesterday or even this morning.
“You sure you don’t want a sip, darling?” I softly purr to Dash, laying my hand on his thigh. His green eyes flash with a primal warning.
Bingo.
His muscles bunch and tense underneath my fingertips and I slide them an inch higher, feeling emboldened, before rubbing my thumb back and forth. Deftly gripping my wrist, he rests it back to my side.
“I’m good.” His voice is cutting.
No kitten or wifey. Just two dry words with no emotion. Except, his piercing gaze doesn’t lose its edge, betraying the fact that I’m getting under his skin.
A heady rush of power courses through my veins.
Holding his unwavering stare, I casually take another sip of the fruity champagne and slowly lick my bottom lip. I smile when he tracks the movement with quiet intensity.
Feigning nonchalance, I shrug. “As you wish, my love.”
As graceful and predatory as a panther, he grips my jaw and brings my face back to his before I can turn away. I’m held in place by an invisible thread and notice a little too late that he’s taken the glass from my hand until he brings it to my parted lips.
“Drink.” I obey without a single thought and he issues another command, “Don’t swallow.”
In a trance, my body realizes his intention before my mind catches on. Strong hands pull me closer and his lips lock on mine, drinking the liquid straight from my mouth. Our lips touch for a fraction of a second before he leans back, leaving me dizzy.
My legs press together as a rush of wetness, different from the alcohol, runs between my folds until I’m nothing but a puddle at his feet. It wasn’t long enough to be a kiss, yet it felt like one and was enough to imprint the feel of his soft lips on my soul.
A non-kiss that stole my breath away.
I should’ve listened to the warning.
