An Improper Ever After(82)
Elliot laughs. "No, you dirty-minded little minx." He flicks the tip of my nose. "It was a genuine cake with strawberries and flowers on top, made with real German chocolate. Had to toss it, though."
I sigh. That cake sounds wonderful. "It's okay."
"I'm going to order another when you feel better and we can have a small party. But since it would be cruel and unusual to deprive you of cake until then, I got you this." He produces a beautifully wrapped pink box and hands it to me.
Eyebrows raised, I tug at the satiny ribbon and carefully open the box. Inside is a chocolate cupcake with intricate frosting that looks like hearts and stars. "Wow," I say.
"It's no ordinary cupcake," he explains. "Inside is a gooey center full of pure dark chocolate."
"Ooh, yummy." I smile.
"Here." He pulls the cupcake out, sticks a golden candle in the center and lights it. The small flame bathes both of us in a warm glow.
I grin. I don't care about the injuries … or the near-death experience. This is the best birthday ever.
He sings "Happy Birthday." I can't help but smile at the mellow baritone of his voice. Is there anything this man can't do?
Nope, I think. He's perfect. And he's all mine.
When the song ends, he looks me in the yes. "Make a wish, Belle."
I tilt my head, gazing up at his face. "I don't need to make a wish." I kiss him on the mouth. "I have everything I could hope for already."
His throat works, and emotions flit through his dark gaze. Laying his forehead against mine, he shares the air I breathe. "God, I love you, Annabelle Reed."
"I love you too, Elliot."
* * *
Elizabeth
I sit in the darkened study in Ryder's mansion and wait. My brother is out with his wife, so I'm the only one here, along with a few of the household staff. They don't bother me, though. They're busy running the fortress Ryder calls "home."
I count carefully as the clock on the wall ticks each passing second. Finally, at eighty-four, my phone rings.
"Lizichka," a gravelly and slightly accented male voice says. "You called?"
"Yes, Tolik. You read the article about Julian's deal with us, I presume?"
His grunt conveys a wealth of disapproval and concern. "Nasty business."
"It's certainly not ideal." Which is why I am forced to make this call. "I want everything there is to know about my father and Wives Numbers Two through Six."
"What are you looking for, Lizichka?"
"Leverage. Something to fix the situation. Like you said, this is nasty business."
"What about that man at the dinner?"
I inhale sharply. If he hears, he doesn't let on. "Ignore him. He has nothing to do with this," I manage.
"As you wish."
"Thank you, Tolik."
--
Thank you for reading An Improper Ever After. I hope you enjoyed it! Don't miss An Unlikely Deal featuring the mysterious, scarred Lucas, Elliot's twin!
Would you like to know when my next book is available? Join my mailing list at nadialee/newsletter.
If you enjoyed An Improper Ever After, I'd appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book, too.
Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, reader's groups and discussion boards.
Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it. If you do write a review, please contact me at nadianadialee so I can thank you with a personal email.
I love to hear from readers! Feel free to write me at nadianadialee or follow me on Twitter nadialee, or like my Facebook page at nadialeewrites or join my reader group at groups/595788263841144/. Say hello and let me know which one of my characters is your favorite or what you want to see next or anything else you want to talk about! I personally read all my emails, Tweets and Facebook comments.
--
Bonus: Unedited and uncorrected excerpt from An Unlikely Deal
The Boy
The boy in the garden is no more than four. He is a handsome child, with bright brown eyes and the silkiest of dark chestnut hair. His black shirt is neatly pressed-thanks to the housekeeper-and his blue denim pants are tidy as well, except for a streak of dirt from the yard where he wrestled with his twin.
He takes hold of his mother's soft, manicured hand with his own, sticky with sweat and candy from earlier. She flinches and tries to pull away. When he doesn't let go, she yanks her hand from his grip and stares at her palm with distaste. She takes out a handkerchief and wipes it.
His gaze rises to her face.
"'Ommy?" he says when she ignores him.
She sighs. "It's Mommy, not 'ommy." Her voice is impatient.
"I love you!" he declares as though he isn't bothered by the correction, looking up at his beautiful golden mother with a cherubic smile.