. . . frankly—all of it.
I’d be interested in reading your notes. And I like my bracketed
signature, too.
A x
(Your fiancée)
PS: Since when ha一ve you been so loquacious? And you’re on the
phone!
I press send and look up, and he’s standing in front of me,
smirking. Before I can say anything, he bounds around the
kitchen island, sweeps me up in his arms, and kisses me
soundly.
“That is all, Miss Steele,” he says, releasing me, and he
saunters—in his jeans, bare feet and untucked white shirt
—back to his office, lea一ving me breathless.
I’ve made a watercress, cilantro, and sour cream dip to
accompany the salmon, and I’ve set the breakfast bar. I
hate interrupting him while he’s working, but now I stand
in the doorway of his office. He’s still on the phone, all
thoroughly fucked hair and bright gray eyes—a visually
nourishing feast. He looks up when he sees me and
doesn’t take his eyes off me. He frowns slightly, and I
don’t know if it’s at me or because of his conversation.
“Just let them in and lea一ve them alone. Do you
understand, Mia?” he hisses and rolls his eyes. “Good.”
I mime eating, and he grins at me and nods.
“I’ll see you later.” He hangs up. “One more call?” he
asks.
“Sure.”
“Sure.”
“That dress is very short,” he adds.
“You like it?” I give him a quick twirl. It’s one of
Caroline Acton’s purchases. A soft turquoise sundress,
probably more suitable for the beach, but it’s such a lovely
day on so many levels. He frowns and my face falls.
“You look fantastic in it, Ana. I just don’t want anyone
else to see you like that.”
“Oh!” I scowl at him. “We’re at home, Christian. No
one but the staff.”
His mouth twists, and either he’s trying to hide his
amusement or he really doesn’t think that’s funny. But
eventually he nods, reassured. I shake my head at him—
he’s actually being serious? I head back to the kitchen.
Five minutes later, he’s back in front of me, holding the
phone.
“I ha一ve Ray for you,” he murmurs, his eyes wary.
All the air lea一ves my body at once. I
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