Page 53 of Arranged Silverfox

“Let’s toast,” Sebastian suggested.

“To what?” I asked.

Sebastian looked at me, his eyes sparkling, “To our future.”

He hefted the bottle into the air and yelled, “To our future!” before taking a hearty swig.

“My turn!” I yanked the bottle out of his hands.

“To our future!” I hollered. It felt good to be barefoot and loud after an entire evening spent making myself palatable to others. I giggled as I sipped. The bubbles almost went up my nose.

Sebastian laughed and pulled me onto his lap, kissing my neck.

“You were the star of the gala,” he noted.

I shrugged. “It’s what I’m used to. Although I will say, I think tonight’s the first time I’ve actually had fun at a gala,” I said.

Sebastian quirked up an eyebrow, “What made it different?” he asked.

“You,” I replied simply, settling against his chest as I took another sip.

Tonight made me realize that Sebastian really is my perfect match.

Chapter 9

Sebastian

"Thisisamazing,"Beccasaid, settling in the cream-colored leather seats of the jet.

She spread cream cheese on one of the bagels on the breakfast tray. Her blonde hair glowed, saturated with the early-morning sun.

"You've flown private before, haven’t you?" I asked as I sipped my espresso. We are about two hours away from Boston. "Didn’t you grow up with this?"

She shook her head. "There’s a difference between flying first class money and private jet money. By the time I came along, the wealth was dwindling. We had a private jet at one time, but they sold it when I was young. The only time I'm in one is when I'm with someone who has one."

She shrugged. "I'm not complaining. I still fly first class." She stretched her shapely legs. "But first-class can't compare to the luxury of a private jet."

Buying a private jet was a big decision, even if I’d mainly used it for business purposes. Having access to wealth didn't make me foolish about money. I'd seen many friends lose their shirts by throwing money around and spending it frivolously. I spent months shopping around before I finally made my decision.

I wanted the jet to feel personal and comfortable but, at the same time, be suitable for business trips. The walls were covered in a smooth veneer, with intricate gold pinstriping and art deco accents. The seats were plush cream-colored leather, comfortable enough to sleep in. The floor was carpeted with a luxurious ivory shag that's soft underfoot. The bars were stocked with all kinds of food and drinks, and the only alcohol available was wine and champagne. No hard liquor.

There was a private room in the back of the jet I used primarily for meetings. The couch could double as a full bed.

I laughed. "I'm glad I can offer you a taste of luxury. I didn't think I could since you're a Cavanaugh."

She smiled wryly. "Some days, it seems that my family's name is all we have left of our former glory."

"Names open doors," I added.

"True."

I think about her property in Beacon Hill. "I'm surprised your parents didn't ask you to sell your apartment."

She laughed humorlessly. "Oh, they did, but I wouldn't give in. It means too much to me, and I'm already making enough sacrifices for my family."

The comment stung. I knew our parents arranged our marriage for business. But I didn’t think about the arrangement once during our weekend in Napa. I guess that would always be something that clouded our marriage.

I changed the subject. "When we return to Boston, we have another event to attend at the Delphi Lounge."