“You should come,” Amandine says. “It’ll be fun. Besides, Elliot can afford to give extra to the cause.”
“What is the cause exactly?” I ask. Except for Ryder, I don’t know that much about Elliot’s siblings.
“She’s been focusing on domestic poverty recently, so it’s going to be about funding and building community centers for inner city youth. Her plan is ambitious, but really inspiring. No one does better work than Elizabeth when it comes to that sort of thing.”
“Certainly she’s had lots of practice,” Elliot adds. “Since she was eighteen.”
“I’d love to support something like that,” I say.
Amandine beams. “Fabulous.” She glances at the chocolate cake, and I can see the culinary lust of a pregnant woman at the mercy of her hormones. “Now, is anybody else ready for dessert?”
Chapter Eleven
Elliot
My wife’s eyes are soft with sleepiness and the narcotizing effect of exceptional food by the time I pull into the garage. Her chest rises and falls gently under the silken fabric of her dress, and I note the butterfly wings over the tips of her breasts.
It’s a modest outfit, showing only a moderate amount of skin. But the strategic locations of butterflies draw the eye to her generous assets, which have been driving me crazy all evening long. Right now, I want to say the hell with her period, draw a nipple into my mouth and lick it hard. I want to hear that quick intake of breath and a soft moan and feel her fingers digging into my hair. I want her to arch her body into mine and beg me to take her, then scream out her orgasm and tell me in that pleasure-broken voice that she’s mine.
Good things come to those who wait, I tell myself. Bullshit, of course, but better than admitting I have no self-control when it comes to her. The plan is to wait until we’re on our honeymoon in two days…and then fuck until neither of us can walk.
Belle sighs. “Thank you. I had a great time. They’re good people.”
“Yes, they are.” I exit the car and open the door for her. “Let’s go.”
“Mmm.” She climbs out, taking my hand. Her fingers are so slim and delicate as they entwine with mine. “Do you suppose it’s really okay for me to go to the charity event? I said yes to Amandine, then realized I never asked Elizabeth.”
“Of course it’s fine. You’re family. Besides, Elizabeth will love the extra moolah. She never turns it down.”
“I see.”
I feel compelled to explain myself. “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t planning to go.”
She tilts her head back to look at me. Even in heels, she’s at least a foot shorter than I am. “Why not?”
“Honestly? Those things are boring as hell. I usually just give money and skip the event, but maybe it’ll be good for us to get out. Our first public appearance as a couple. More chances to meet people and mingle.”
As we get closer to the elevator, a member of the concierge staff walks over. He’s in a crisp suit, black hair slicked back from his narrow, olive-complexioned face.
“Mr. Reed?” he says.
“Yes?”
“This came for you today.” He hands me a white envelope. The paper’s thick enough to hide whatever’s inside from curious eyes. There is no address or logo on the outside.
Odd. “Hand delivered?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you remember who it was?”
“Ah…not really, sir. Just some man in a suit.”
“I see. Thank you.” I shove it into my back pocket. The content is stiff, like photos or plastic sheets.
“What’s that?” Belle asks.
“Probably some business stuff,” I say even though I know that isn’t true. My business partners and associates would’ve used standard delivery service or private courier. And they certainly would’ve left a note on the outside of the envelope so I’d immediately know what it’s about and how urgent it is.