The Bravos: Family Ties: The Bravo Family Way / Married in Haste / From Here to Paternity. Christine RimmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
Bravo-owned five-star resort in Cabo San Lucas. Fletcher’s mother and stepdad stayed with Ashlyn at the penthouse for the four brief days they were gone.
Those four days were beautiful. Cleo and her new husband lay in the tropical sun and swam in the blue, blue sea and made love—a lot.
Twice—the afternoon of the first day of their honeymoon and two days later at dinner—Cleo found herself thinking that her groom seemed just a little preoccupied, a little bit withdrawn. Both times she asked him if something was bothering him. Both times he reassured her that there was absolutely nothing wrong.
The second time she asked, at dinner on their private balcony overlooking the beach and the fabulous jewel-blue ocean, he reached across the table. She gave him her hand and reveled, as always, in the sheer thrill of his touch.
“How could I be preoccupied?” he said. “I’m right where I want to be—with you.”
They returned home midweek, said goodbye to Fletcher’s folks and then they both rushed around playing catch-up, getting on top of what hadn’t gotten done while they’d been lying in the sun. Fletcher had a series of killer meetings that stretched into the evening on both Thursday and Friday, so Cleo and Ashlyn shared dinner on their own.
Friday night, Cleo was sound asleep long before Fletcher returned to the penthouse. Deep in the hours between midnight and dawn, she stirred, opened her eyes—and stared into the darkness at Fletcher’s side of the bed.
Empty.
She stretched out a hand, felt the cool, undisturbed expanse of silk. The red numerals on his bedside clock read 3:13. So very late. Where could he be? He’d said nothing about being gone all night.
Restless and beginning to worry, she rolled over.
And there he was, sitting in the buff leather easy chair five feet from the bed. His bow tie was undone and his collar unbuttoned, but otherwise he was fully dressed in a gorgeous black tux.
She canted up on an elbow and pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes. “Hey. There you are. I was just wondering what might have happened to you….”
“Late night,” he said, his voice a low, soft rumble, his gaze never straying, trained on her. “Entertaining the whales.”
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