A Convenient Texas Wedding. Sheri WhiteFeatherЧитать онлайн книгу.
Not for money or anything else.”
“Okay, but I’d still like to set you up with some credit cards while we’re married. You can use them to shop or have lunch with other Texas Cattleman’s Club wives or whatever society women typically do. But mostly you’ll be with me. We’ll need to be seen together as much as possible.” He glanced down at her hands and how simply manicured her nails were. “I’ll be getting you a big-ass diamond to wear, too.”
She widened her eyes. “A big-arse diamond? I’ve never heard it put quite like that before.”
“What can I say? I’m new at this fiancé stuff. But I think you should come home with me.” Clarifying his intention, he added, “For us to get better acquainted and figure out the details of the wedding. If you’re getting hungry, I can order some takeout and have it delivered.”
“Thank you. That’s a nice offer. I’m famished actually. I was too nervous to eat before I came here.”
“Do you need a ride to my place? Or do you have a rental car with you?”
“I need a ride. I haven’t driven in America yet. Being on the other side of the road confuses me. I’ve been taking Uber.”
He stood and offered her his hand. “Ready to go?”
She allowed him to help her up. “Yes, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He escorted her to valet parking so he could pick up his shiny red Porsche. To keep things fresh, Rand leased a different sports car every couple years. He went through women in a lot less time. In fact, he’d never stayed with anyone longer than a few restless months.
He glanced over at Allison. She seemed so foreign standing next to him. Not just the country she was from, but the knowledge, the hard-hitting reality of making her his wife. But if it worked out like it was supposed to, she would be reforming him in the public eye and on social media, too.
Of course he still had to be careful not to corrupt her with his man-whore ways. Even with the no-sex clause, he was pretty damned sure he could seduce her. Not that he was going to. As tantalizing as she was, he needed to keep his head on straight, to follow the rules. Trouble was, Rand was a rule breaker by nature. Restricting himself from the lust-driven pleasure of a woman’s company wasn’t something he’d ever had to do until now.
A young valet brought the car around, and Rand slipped the kid a generous tip. Once he and Allison were settled into their seats, he put the Porsche in gear and peeled out of the driveway.
As he headed for Pine Valley, the area where he lived, he asked her, “What should we order? What sort of food do you like?”
“I’m partial to the deep-dish pepperoni pizza you have here. I’m a hearty eater, just so you know. A bit of a pig, actually. I don’t mess around where my meals are concerned.”
Her candor amused him. She had a knack for admitting what some people would consider faults. “Your enthusiasm for food is refreshing.”
“I’m glad you think so. Because it’s something you’re going to have to get used to.”
He stole a glance at her lusciously curved body. “You can eat as much as you want around me.” Trying to keep his errant thoughts off her voluptuous figure, he focused on the road.
A moment later, they engaged in chitchat. They revealed how old they were and when they were born. She was thirty-one, and he was thirty-seven. Interestingly enough, their birthdays were only a few days apart. They were both Aries. Normally he didn’t follow that stuff. But she did, apparently, referring to their astrological sign as “hard-headed rams.” He supposed that part was true, with as determined as they were to make this marriage situation work.
When he reached the entrance of Pine Valley, he stopped at the gate. He had a key code, but a live guard was on duty, too.
Once he moved forward, Allison glanced out her window. “Wow! This is a grand area. Look at all the mansions. You live in one of these all by yourself?”
“Yep. Just me.” Pine Valley was a private, upscale community with million-dollar homes, an 18-hole golf course, a fancy clubhouse and other exclusive amenities.
“You don’t have a household staff?”
“I use a chef delivery service that comes by a few times a week and leaves my meals in the fridge or the freezer, based on the menus I choose. I use a cleaning service, too. I’d never have anyone live with me. I don’t like having people under foot.” He turned down his street and approached his home. The Tudor-style architecture featured heavy brick chimneys, decorative stonework, casement windows and a steeply pitched roof. An immaculate lawn dressed out the yard, with summer flowers garnishing the walkway.
He pulled the Porsche into his garage. His other car was a luxury sedan, another leased vehicle. Nothing was ever permanent in Rand’s mind.
He gestured to the pearly white sedan. “You can drive that one when we’re married.”
“Thank you, but I’d rather not.”
“Because of your discomfort about being on the opposite side of the road?” He didn’t see why that should hold her back. “You plan on driving in the States eventually, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I can wait until I’m ready.”
Had she waited to have sex the first time, too? He suspected that she’d most likely lost her virginity when she was well into her twenties. He doubted that she’d given it up when she was a doe-eyed teen, writing poetry to her make-believe husband.
He escorted her into his house by way of the garage. They entered through the laundry room, with its high-efficiency washer and dryer, bright white counters and stainless steel sink.
Going from one spacious room to the next, he gave her a tour of the first floor, familiarizing her with the custom-built layout.
“Everything about your home is magnificent,” she said.
“Thanks.” He’d chosen furnishings that reflected his eclectic taste, mixing the old with the new, traditional with modern. “Let me get the pizza ordered, then I’ll show you the rest of it.” He called in the food and notified the guard at the gate, too.
While they waited for the delivery, he took her upstairs to where the bedrooms were.
They entered a room with an impressive view of the backyard. “When you move in, you can use this suite. It’s the one my lovers use when they stay over. There’s an adjoining bathroom with a shower and a claw-foot tub. Women seem to like that.”
“It’s all very elegant.” She studied a gold-leafed dresser, tracing her hand along the wood. She turned and said, “But I hope you don’t mind me asking, why do you have a separate suite for your lovers?”
He motioned to a set of ornate wooden doors. “This suite connects to mine, so when I have a woman over, we can open those doors and share both spaces. But we can close them when we want privacy, too. In the old days, ladies had their own boudoirs, and I wanted to create that effect here, too. I think it’s sexy, waiting on the other side for my lovers to be ready for me.” He walked over to the canopy bed that would become hers. “Sometimes they come to my suite, and sometimes they invite me to sleep in this one with them.”
She glanced at the pale beige material that draped the top and sides of the bed, then took a breath-stealing moment to look at him. He returned her gaze, steeped in his odd fascination with her. By now, she was standing in front of a Queen Anne–style vanity table, with her back to the beveled mirror. The wood was a deep, dark cherry, and the seat was upholstered in a light floral print.
Rand imagined her using the vanity on their wedding day. “Do you want to get married here?”
She widened her eyes. “In this suite?”
“No. In the house itself.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”