It’s absolutely breathtaking.
We maneuver through a crowded dining room, the clatter of dishes and chatter of voices filling the air. The mouthwatering smells are impossible to ignore. Although I’m training, it’s not often I get to dine in one of the world’s most exclusive restaurants. Tonight, I definitely plan to indulge.
As we approach the private dining room, I touch the hostess’s arm, signaling her to stop before she opens the door. I need a little extra time to compose myself.
“Could you give me a minute before we go in?”
“Sure thing.” She smiles, holding our menus against her chest. “Let me guess, blind date?”
“Something like that.” I return her smile. “How did you know?”
“You’re a nervous ball of energy,” she says, chuckling. “I can feel it from here. Just take deep breaths. Remember that you’re a beautiful woman, and he’s the lucky one, and everything will be fine. At least, that’s what my mama always told me in these situations.”
I laugh and can already feel the nerves start to dissipate. “Your mom sounds like a wise woman.”
“She was.” A forlorn look crosses her face before she clears her throat, and then her smile returns, though it no longer reaches her eyes. “Ready?”
“Yes. And thank you.”
She winks and pushes the door open, and it’s like I’ve stepped into a fairytale. I gasp, and so does the hostess.
What the hell? It’s just like my dressing room.
Everywhere I look, vibrant red roses adorn the room. As I enter, my eyes are drawn to the sight of rose petals scatteredacross the pristine, white marble floor. The room is beautifully decorated with lit candles and large bouquets of long-stem red roses in clear crystal vases, creating a romantic ambiance. In the back of the room, there’s a glass table adorned with a blanket of red roses, their familiar sweet fragrance filling the air. Glass vases with flickering candles decorate the top of the table, casting a warm, yellow glow, illuminating the entire room.
My breath catches in my throat, leaving me momentarily speechless. Behind the table stands the man who will be my husband. The man who made my heart race with excitement when I first laid eyes on him.
As I take the first step toward the rest of my life, my heart rate quickens, reminiscent of the first time we met. I’m feeling a mix of confusion and uncertainty at the moment, to be honest. I’m a twenty-two-year-old woman who has never had a serious relationship, and now I’m expected to marry someone named Beast, who possesses the looks of any woman’s wet dream.
I’ve hit the jackpot when it comes to my future husband. With his tall stature and captivating presence, he possesses that irresistible aura women are drawn to. He still exudes that rugged beauty vibe, but what unsettles me is the mystery behind all of this.
Standing at least six foot three, possibly four, with tousled, dirty-blond hair, his cobalt-colored eyes captivate me, drawing me closer like I’m in a trance. Among all the women he could have chosen, he picked me. There has to be a reason.
As my eyes linger on him, a sudden rush of heat engulfs my cheeks. However, I push aside my embarrassment and continue to examine him. If I’m going to marry the man, I have every right to look at him as he devours me with his intense stare. He doesn’t seem to mind, anyway, as a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
He steps from behind the table, his dark-blue slacks clinging to his muscular legs. His baby-blue button-down shirt, undone at the collar, reveals a glimpse of his tattoos, adding a hint of sinful allure to his appearance.
The butterflies that were fluttering earlier have taken full-blown flight now. The feeling has shifted from nervousness to an overwhelming desire.
His gaze explores every inch of me, his eyes moving up and down my frame. I aimed for a sophisticated yet understated look tonight. My choice was a black cocktail dress that exposed my shoulders and reached my calves, hugging my slender figure and modest bust with precision. I’m glad I chose the four-inch black strappy stilettos. They add an extra touch of elegance to my outfit, and I need all the height I can get.
“It’s nice to see you again, Arabelle.” He kisses me on the cheek and then pulls out one of the chairs. “Please have a seat.”
I give a small nod and take a seat. “Thank you.”
He pulls out the other chair and settles down next to me, creating a sense of closeness as my arm and thigh brush his. There’s no space between us, and I’m actually okay with it.
The man has a jawline that looks like it’s been chiseled from marble.
His loud laughter resonates throughout the room. I would never believe a man could get any more beautiful just by a carefree laugh if I hadn’t seen it for myself.
“Did I say that out loud?”
My face flushes with embarrassment.
“You did.” He reaches for the bottle of wine that’s on the table. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
I’m not much of a drinker, especially since I was drugged, but I think I might need some liquid courage to figure out why this man wants to marry me. He has the power and money to have any woman, but he’s chosen to be with me.
