Page 12 of Kingpin's Baby
My throat goes dry. “Probably. She disappeared when I was eleven. About the same time as the kingpin of Westminster’s mother, incidentally.”
“Wow. Do you think…?”
“I imagine they’re happy, somewhere. Eating donuts.” I hope so, anyway, and the sentiment makes Ren smile.
“Is this one too much? The square one?” She points at a big, but not the largest or showiest, ring, with a single inverted pyramid diamond set in yellow gold.
“Try it on.”
She regards me from under her lashes as she fits the ring to her fourth finger then holds out her hand, turning it this way and that, admiring it.
“A princess cut diamond for my princess.”
“It’s a bit too big.” The ring has a small gap. “I don’t want to lose it.”
“If you can cope for now, we’ll adjust it for you.” I wonder if she knows I’m not talking about the ring, but the role. Wife.
“Okay.” She closes her other hand over it, as though keeping the ring on her finger. “I’ll keep it safe.” She takes a deep breathand then sighs. “That’s all the wedding stuff.” Reaching for the printouts, she shuffles them. “So I guess I’m going to go back upstairs, out of your way. Make calls. Sort out these things.”
“Very well.” It’s no more than I expected that she wants to get away from me. But I have something like regret in my heart.
Perhaps she could plan a wedding for us every day, so she’d have to come and consult me on it. Or a baby is an even better option. She’d need advice about names, clothes, and a myriad of other things.
I keep my hands and thoughts to myself as I settle back behind my desk. She’s right, there’s work to do. At the door, Ren stops, fiddling with her new and unfamiliar ring.
I wait.
“I was thinking about us appearing natural.” She doesn’t look at me. “And I was wondering…”
“Go on.”
“Most couples have been…” she hesitates, twisting her legs, pressing her thighs together. “Intimateby the time they get married.”
“I see.” I can’t breathe. “What were you thinking? Another kiss?”
She bites her lip and nods, but her eyes speak for her. Disappointment.
Oh, not just another kiss then.
Sliding my chair away from the desk, I lean back and observe her. So pretty. My future wife is all curves and fine lines with her pale hair and soft blue eyes. The colour of the stormy sea.
“You don’t need to do this.” I force the words out.
“I know.” She ducks her head and squirms. “But I wouldn’t want anyone to think this wasn’t real.” Then I see it. She’s shifting, hips undulating, continuously trying to get contact on her clit.
Something has turned her on, and she needs to come.
I won’t take advantage. She said she didn’t want a real marriage, so I’ll adhere to the letter of the law she set when she was in a clearer frame of mind.
My elbow on the armrest, I beckon her with one finger.
A sigh of relief and she almost skips to me. I suppress a smile. There’s no guile about my fiancée. No sultry artfulness in swinging her hips or wearing revealing clothing. She’s as fresh and sweet and honest as a daisy.
“Sit on the desk,” I command when she reaches me.
There’s no hesitation. She plunks her cute arse onto the edge of the wood, and places the pile of notes to the side. She’s so petite that she doesn’t disturb the chaos of paperwork behind her, and gazes at me like I’m her personal saviour.
I go to remove her leggings, but before I touch her, remember my manners. Hell. Ren makes me forget myself.
