15
Bronywyn
Three hours of training, followed by a delicious lunch, an hour-long bath, and a two-hour nap, and I’m finally dressed and ready to go whenever Tarnley shows up. Since he refused to tell me where we’re going the last three times I called him, I decided to dress casually in a floral dress that falls to just above my knees. I dress it up with a dark green cardigan that matches the leaves and stems of the brightly colored foliage then slip into some nude flats.
I kept my hair down, curling it slightly so it falls in waves just past my shoulders. It felt good to get dressed, to put on makeup. So natural, and I’d smiled nearly the entire time despite the muscle aches from earlier. I’m just glad I was able to cover up the massive bruise on my jaw.
Magnolia is coming along pretty damn well. She’s a fast learner and doesn’t give up when things get difficult. Two important qualities when embedded as deep as she is in this life.
I check myself one last time before grabbing my purse and heading down the stairs. I’m just reaching the bottom when the doorbell rings and a tingle of awareness shoots up my spine. He’s there, just on the other side. And when my butler—Ivan, as I’ve recently bothered to learn—pulls open the door, I’m struck by how incredibly lucky I am.
Wearing dark slacks and a button-down white shirt paired with a dark jacket, he looks every bit like he should be on the cover of GQ.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he says softly as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
“You’re not too harsh on the eyes, either.” I turn to Ivan. “Will you please make sure Winnie doesn’t go outside?”
“Yes, of course.” He dips his head in a nod. “We have a full night of movie-watching ahead of us.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Please, Ivan, you can call me Bronywyn.”
“As you wish.”
“Don’t wait up,” Tarnley says as he slings an arm around my shoulders and guides me out the door.
The old man chuckles. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The door shuts softly behind us, and I take a deep breath, savoring the crisp mountain air. “So, where are we headed?”
“You’ll see.”
“Tarnley.”
“Nope. Not a word. You can try as hard as you like, but I won’t be telling you a thing until we get there.”
“This really isn’t necessary.”
“I disagree.”
“We’ve already slept together.”
Tarnley pulls open the passenger door of his Jaguar and steps to the side so I can climb in. “And that means I can’t romance you?”
“It just means that it’s not necessary.”
Tarnley leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “See, it’s because I’ve seen you naked that I do believe it’s necessary. I know what I’d be missing if you should ever get bored.”
The bastard doesn’t wait for a response before he grins and shuts the door then takes his sweet time walking around to the driver’s side.
“You deserve to be wined and dined, my love, and I’m afraid if it’s not what you want, you’re with the wrong bloodsucker.” He winks at me, and heat flushes through my body, molten lava in my veins.
“You’re too much for me.”
“I rather think we fit perfectly.” The motor ignites, and Tarnley pulls out of my drive. “You have a good day?”