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Judge laughed.

Rix wanted to get there.

But he couldn’t.

“Blake says she wants us early for the cocktail party, a family gathering, and she so can’t wait to meet me. We’re supposed to pitch up somewhere, not where the cocktail party is happening. Which isn’t here. The dad hates anyone in his house except staff, family at a push and ‘close friends,’ which Alex knows as his mistresses. Of which she also knows that number is plural.”

“Jesus,” Judge muttered.

“Yeah, so Alex is an old hand at this and has since realized that, even with the upcoming festivities, it’s going to be standard operating procedure. Since it is, she tells me we shouldn’t hold our breath to learn deets on when and where this family cocktail hour is gonna happen. Good thing. Blake never shares. So I lied about the pizza. We had hours to kill, and I took her mind off shit in ways we both like. That’s the best part of New York so far. Now our new limo has been outside, waiting for us for the last hour, we’re supposed to be there already, and Alex’s phone is blowing up with demands from her mom and sister to know where the fuck she is.”

Again, silence from Judge, but this time Rix could feel his own fury mirroring back at him.

So he repeated, “Yeah. This means I escaped the vicinity of her phone so I wouldn’t lose my goddamned mind, and I’m downstairs in what could double as a museum or a mausoleum, not sure which. It’s so big, it could be both.”

He took a breath.

And kept going.

“So we leave at noon on Sunday. That’s eighty-eight hours from now. But I’m not sure I’ll make it through the next ten minutes without committing a felony.” He pulled in another breath and finished, “The dad’s got some good art. Feeling it’ll look better after it sails through a window.”

“Blow them off, do your thing, enjoy New York,” Judge advised.

“That’s precisely my plan. But first, I got this cocktail shit to get through.”

“Okay then, I was going to let it be a surprise, but now I’m going to tell you. Good news on that. Dad and Dru were invited to all this shit. They declined at first, except for the wedding. They’ve since sent word they’ll be attending.”

“Thank fuck,” he muttered.

“Thank fuck, what?” Alex asked.

Rix turned.

And stopped dead.

Because from the time he escaped her phone ringing in their room, to now, his woman had become another woman.

A sleeveless dress with full skirt that hit her knees. It was made of, fuck, he didn’t know what it was. He just knew it was gorgeous. Embroidery or something, blue flowers and little birds, hints of red, all this edged in black on a netting over nude fabric. That stuff covered her over her breasts, then it was sheer at her chest, with just a couple of little birds floating around, a thin line of flowers at the throat, which was prettier than any necklace. A slim, black satin ribbon for a belt.

Her hair was pulled back, up, but soft.

Her makeup was full, most he’d ever seen her wear, but still subdued and perfect.

Her cheeks were shiny.

There were diamond earrings dropping from her ears, made up of tiers of big flowers and leaves that nearly brushed her shoulders and probably cost more than his house.

And high heeled sandals that looked like they were made of thin, black satin ribbons that included a sexy-as-fuck ankle strap.

He could smell her and…

His whole body felt the sight of the fact she was wearing his ring.

First time he’d seen it since he bought it.

And it was on her left finger.

“Alex is here,” he grunted to Judge. “She’s ready. Gotta go.”

“You got this.”

“Yeah,” he forced out.

“You got her, Rix.”

That cleared it.

“Yeah,” he said firmly.

“Call me, try to have fun. Later.”

“Later.”

She was in front of him.

“Thank fuck what?” she repeated.

He didn’t answer.

He reached down and nabbed her left hand.

He pulled it between them, the back of it facing up.

And thumbed the ring.

It did fit.

Perfect.

“Honey,” she whispered.

His eyes went to hers. “That was Judge. Jamie and Dru are gonna be there tonight.”

She smiled. “That’s good. Friends. People you know.”

“You look beautiful.”

Her face got soft, she swished her hips, but she said, “Camouflage.”

His attention went to the side of her neck. “You bringing Brooke with us tonight?”

She lifted her free hand, touched her earring. “She’d want to know what’s going on.”

“I don’t know the woman, but I can confirm she really wanted you the fuck out of here, baby. Those earrings could buy a fleet of cars. Maybe a fleet of planes.”

“Blake will know they’re Grandmother’s, and she’ll be furious.”

“Awesome.”

Her lips tipped up.

“Ready?” he asked.

Her fingers caught tight hold of his, and her eyes didn’t leave his own, a message he did not miss in the slightest, as she replied, “Absolutely.”


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