Page 14 of Wicked Love

He continues to stare at me like I’m some sort of masterpiece. With my morning breath, splotchy skin, and—I can only assume—makeshift smoky eye from yesterday’s liner I didn’t bother to remove before bed, I am definitely no Mona Lisa.

“Come on.” He smirks though his tone is serious as he taps my outer thigh. “Time to get up and enjoy the day.”

“You’re one of those.” I feign dramatics and roll my eyes.

“One of those?” he chuckles.

“Yes. Those morning people.”

Of which I definitely am not.

“Up. You’ll have fun.” He smiles as he stands from the bed. “And there will be coffee.”

Shamelessly, I can’t take my eyes off his rock-hard ass as he walks toward the door. Glancing over his shoulder when he reaches the threshold, as though he could feel my eyes on him, he shoots me his million-dollar smile.

“I’ll give you thirty minutes to get ready.” He begins to pull the door shut.

“That’s not nearly enough ti—” I attempt to rebut the short length of time before he cuts me off.

“Thirty minutes, or I’ll be back in here to drag you downstairs kicking and screaming.”

There is a strange tinge of truth in his words, and I almost don’t doubt that he would follow through. I believe it enough that I forgo washing my hair and opt to pull it into a messy bun to save time.

Samuel is waiting in the foyer by the steps; his eyes fixated on his watch as though he is literally counting down the seconds until my thirty-minute deadline is over.

“What’s so important that you’re pushing me out of the front door before nine a.m.?” I half-joke as he places his hand on the small of my back and leads me toward the car already parked out front.

“You’ll see.”

He drives fast through town, almost recklessly, before pulling to a stop outside a small, upscale boutique. He climbs from the car, opens my door, and helps me to my feet.

“I’ll go grab us coffee. You head inside and get started.”

“Get started?” I can’t hide the confusion in my voice as he gestures toward the boutique.

Looking at the door, I notice the ‘closed’ sign hanging in the window. I’m about to say something when a very well-put-together woman opens the door with a smile that screams she works for commission.

I’ve met her type before.

“Mr. Millington.” She smiles at him a little too hard before dipping her head as she addresses me. “Cora. We’ve laid out a few things for you, but the store is all yours for the next couple of hours.”

Jesus, this really is some Pretty Woman shit.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” Samuel stops my attempt to decline before I even get a chance to open my mouth. “Whatever you want. And I expect it to be plenty by the time I get back with your coffee. Black, two sugars, right?”

“Y...yes,” I stammer, not sure whether I’m more caught off-guard by the shopping spree or the fact that he remembered how I take my coffee.

A girl could get used to being treated like this.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SAMUEL

Returning with coffee, I am pleased to find Cora doing exactly as I asked when I step inside the boutique.

“Oh my God, finally!” Cora exclaims when she sees me.

“Did you miss me, love?” I jest as she grabs a cup from my hands and takes a huge swig before realizing her mistake.