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Despite it being early April, there was a fresh layer of snow covering the ground, which had slowed their drive, leaving them to arrive ten minutes later than he’d planned.
Check that. Twenty minutes later than he’d planned.
He hadn’t expected to sit in front of Waverley’s place for ten minutes waiting for her to come down. He’d almost gone in to make sure she hadn’t been eaten by rats or murdered by a neighbor when she finally appeared.
As she’d walked toward him in a sexy cream-colored dress that illustrated the perfection of her full, curvy silhouette, he’d deemed the extra wait well worth it.
This woman was going to be his undoing, he’d thought as he opened her door and helped her inside before heading on their way.
As if keeping his eyes on the road and not on her and the fullness of her ruby-red lips wasn’t hard enough, her soft floral scent that filled the car had him feeling almost intoxicated, buzzing in his brain and leaving him wondering if her skin tasted as good as it smelled if he were to kiss every inch of it.
It was a miracle they hadn’t gone off the road before they even got here.
They headed up a long driveway, passing a fountain that probably wasted gallons of water per second during the summer months, and pruned bushes and trees of several varieties, until they approached the front of a massive two-story house that, with its almost pink-tinged beige brick and stone face and steeply pitched roof was reminiscent of a French chateau manor.
A house designed to impress and intimidate, he was sure, neither of which he was.
Once Waverley directed him where to park—taking a spot next to a new white Mercedes S-class that he happened to know cost over a hundred grand, a silver Jaguar, and two Range Rovers—he smoothly exited the car and came around to help her out as any proper gentleman would do.
Gracefully, she accepted his hand and stood to her full height plus an extra few inches. Thanks to those heels, her gaze was almost even with his. Close enough that he could lean forward and kiss the ruby redness of her lips, and damn if he wasn’t tempted to after the long torture of the car.
“What?” she asked in a near state of panic after a moment of his not saying anything, her hands going up to the lips he’d just been staring at. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something in my teeth?”
“Nah. I was just thinking how beautiful you look.”
She appeared flustered and her face flushed two shades of red as she glanced down at her feet, unable to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Just stating a fact,” he said. He was about to shut the door when she stopped him, turning around to dig something off the back seat as he made himself look up at the sky and not at the tush aimed in his direction.
“Almost forgot,” she said, holding up a white cardigan sweater that she slipped on. “I don’t want to imagine what my father would say if he saw my bare arms.”
“He’s that prudish?”
“Something like that,” she said, not elaborating.
Taking his arm, they went to the front door, where they were let in by a guy in a dapper suit who formally greeted Waverley and offered to take his jacket, which he declined.
Reynolds had to take a second look as he stepped into the foyer and caught his first sight of the grand double staircase, the kind that was split in the middle like a slithering snake as it wound up to the second floor, its ornate black iron rails shaped in an intricate design. His eyes were drawn next to the shiny marble floors that alternated in a checkerboard pattern of a light taupe to a richer beige, and he tried not to imagine the work that someone would have to go to trying to keep them clean and polished.
Beyond the entryway, massive light spilled in from three separate sets of French doors all leading out to a terrace that, even from where he was standing, provided an incredible view of the valley and mountains beyond.
He was trying not to gawk at the opulence of the place when Waverley pulled him to the left and down a hallway created by large white pillars on one side and another bank of windows.
He wasn’t even going to try and imagine what the power and gas bills were, especially during a long Colorado winter.
How could someone grow up in a place like this and not come away feeling anything less than entitled? And yet, somehow, Waverley had. Or she appeared to, if the hole she called her apartment was any indication.
Light laughter and the murmur of conversation grew louder just as Waverley’s grip on his arm tightened, her footsteps faltering.
“Hey,” he said, pausing to look into her pale, tense face. “You got this. I mean, how hard can it be to pretend to be hopelessly in love with such a charming, debonair, sex god like myself?”
The terror in her brown eyes turned quickly to disbelief, followed by humor, as her lips curved into a smile. “Is that all?”
“Easy-peasy. Now let’s do this.”
She exhaled loudly and nodded. “Okay.”
Her steps were stronger as they entered a large, airy room filled with easily two dozen people. He glanced around. The space looked and felt more like a museum, with the paintings and tapestries on the walls, the marbled floor covered with a thick, definitely expensive rug, and the elegant uncomfortable-looking furniture placed strategically around the space, than it did a place someone would actually grow up in.
