Page 146 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession
So no, I haven’t had time to catch up with the latest gossip blogs.
Stella’s phone appears before my face. “Hot guy right? And a playboy too. Too bad he can’t handle his strawberries. Looks like was in a hotel room with some random woman when he had some wine, and the next thing she knew he stopped breathing.Turns out there were large amounts of strawberries in it. The wine company is being called into account as well, sounds like they’re in the habit of putting undisclosed ingredients in their vintage. It’s been one big messy bust really.”
My ears are roaring but I have no time to digest what I’m hearing because Ma bursts into the room, carrying two-month-old Richard Farrington. She takes one look at me and starts to cry.
“Oh sweet Mary! Siobhán, me dear heart, look at ya! Yer a vision, truly. Ye take me breath away. I couldn’t be prouder.” She hugs me with her free arm.
Until I find you a proper wedding present, will you be content with taking his breath away?
I’m still trying to deal with the buzzing in my head, so I let Ma hold me for long minutes, enjoying her embrace.
On my mother’s heel is Sabrina, who is holding Renee Farrington, Richard’s twin sister, and Dalia.
They also marvel and sigh and comment on how breathtaking I look. By the time they’re done gushing, my heart is still racing a mile a minute. I focus on taking deep breaths and pasting a smile on my face.
Dalia still lives in Paris but has been heavily involved in promoting Grant’s work, which is gaining a lot of popularity in many areas of France. I wouldn’t expect less from Dalia since they’re now dating.
It only took Grant going to Paris for a few days for Dalia’s engagement to hit the rocks. Depending on how things go with his art, he might move to Paris, or she’ll come back to the States with him.
Twiggy returns with my water, and the wedding planner, who then announces it’s time.
Good, because I need to speak with Ethan right now. I drink gratefully, suddenly needing to wet my parched throat.
Stella makes a beeline for the wedding planner but I know the woman won’t have a clue about the cocktails.
It’s not the wedding planner she needs to talk to. It’s Giovanni, or maybe the person he hired to make the cocktails.
Walking toward Ethan on the aisle is twice as hard as I’d anticipated because not only am I burning up from the naked desire and adoration in his gaze, I’m also about to combust from the one question on my mind.
“Baby,” he rasps when Twiggy hands me over to him. “You’re so fucking beautiful–”
I hug him hard, not caring about the protocol we painstakingly rehearsed yesterday.
At least he didn’t say breathtaking. I hadn’t realized how overused that word could get on a wedding day.
Every time someone said that word, my heart skipped a beat.
When I don’t let go, Ethan pauses.
“Bonnie?” He knows something is wrong.
“I need to talk to you…to ask you something,” I say finally.
“Of course, baby. Would you excuse us a minute?” Ethan says to the bewildered officiant, then he takes my hand, and pulls me to one of the side rooms on the furthest part of the room, leaving the audience tittering madly.
As soon as the door closes, I push him against the door. I go on tiptoe and at the same time, pull his head down, and crash my lips to his. His groan reverberates through me, igniting a fire in my core and making me hungrier.
He takes over the kiss in pure Ethan fashion, plundering my mouth, his tongue boldly seeking mine and drawing it into his mouth. When he starts to alternate between suckling on my tongue and gently nibbling on my bottom lip, I can’t help but moan.
We’re both panting when he raises his head. “Baby, what do you need?”
I’m closely studying every nuance of his features when I ask, “Ethan, did you…do it?” His brow wrinkles in confusion, but when I add, “Jake Tyler?” I see his eyes flash.
He says nothing.
“He died a few days ago in Ireland.” I prompt.
“I’m aware of that,” Ethan says simply.