The Reluctant Bride (Arranged Marriage #1)(62)

Charlotte actually giggles, and I wonder how much wine she’s had. If she’s too drunk, there’s no way I’m making a move on her tonight. I want her to remember it. And I’m not about to take advantage of a drunk woman.

“Are you drunk?”

“No. Maybe a little buzzed,” she admits, biting her lower lip.

I look away from her. The lip-biting thing is sexy as fuck, and I don’t think she realizes it. “Why did you giggle, then?”

“The way you said it. Morellis. As if they’re your mortal enemies,” she admits.

I need to get over myself. I’m on edge. Stressed out over the wedding. Stressed about the responsibilities that come with marriage.

The future Mrs. Constantine is walking by my side with my ring on her finger and my great-grandmother’s earrings in her ears, yet I have no idea what she looks like naked, or what her pussy tastes like. What sounds does she make when she comes?

Have no fucking clue.

Going to rectify that tonight, if she’ll let me. Maybe that’ll ease some of my stress.

“The Morellis are our mortal enemies.” I shake my head, shaking all thoughts of Morellis out of it. “I don’t want to talk about them. I’d rather you show me your hotel room.”

She comes to a stop in the middle of the corridor, giving me no choice but to do the same. “I thought you just said that to get out of your conversation.”

Originally I did. “I won’t stay too long.”

Or I’ll stay all night. Whatever she’s in the mood for.

“I haven’t even seen the room,” she admits. “I had my stuff sent up there and was given a key by Miranda when I arrived.”

“Where’s your wedding dress?”

“In one of the bedrooms. There are three,” she admits. “All of the dresses are already there. Your mother’s, your sister’s. My mother’s as well. We’re getting ready together tomorrow.”

That sounds like my worst nightmare. “Then take me up. Show me your room.”

Charlotte contemplates me, her tongue darting out to touch the corner of her mouth. A groan almost leaves me at seeing it. Fuck, this woman. Everything she does tonight is like pure sexual torture. “You really want to see the hotel room?”

No, I want to see what you look like beneath that wet dream of a dress.

“You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,” she continues.

But I haven’t seen you. And I’m dying to.

Dying.

To.

I don’t say any of those words out loud. Instead, I nod, taking her elbow and steering her toward the bank of elevators that are nearby. “What floor are you on?”

“The top one.”

Of course. Nothing less for a Lancaster.

“Let’s check out the view, then.”

We enter the empty elevator car and I push the PH button, settling back to lean against the wall. Charlotte stands right next to me, her head tilted back to watch the numbers light up as we climb higher.

I blatantly study her profile, not caring if she catches me. The elegant lines of her face. Her pink, glossy lips. Her thick, dark eyelashes. Smooth, creamy skin.

I wonder if she’s that smooth and creamy everywhere.

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open, Charlotte exiting first. I follow after her, my gaze stuck on her ass and the way it moves beneath the skirt as she walks. Fuck, those sexy legs of hers, the nude stilettos on her feet.

My brain comes up with a fantasy. Charlotte sprawled across the hotel bed, naked save for the shoes and the earrings. Hard nipples begging for my mouth. Soaked pussy dying for my fingers…

She stops at the only door on the floor, waving the key over the locking device but it flashes red. She glances over her shoulder at me with a frown. “It won’t open.”

“Here.” I approach, completely crowding her, my front pressed against her back as I reach around her and snag the key from her fingers. “I’ll do it,” I whisper close to her ear.

She goes completely still, her head slightly bent, her warmth seeping into me as I wave the key slowly across the tiny black screen. Two green lights flash, accompanied by the click of the lock sliding back. She reaches for the handle, pushing the door open and I follow her inside.

The moment the door clicks shut we’re shrouded in darkness. I can hear her accelerated breathing, inhale her deliciously floral scent and I operate on pure instinct.

Next thing I know I’ve got her pushed against the wall, my body pressed to hers, pinning her in place.

“You said you wanted to see the view,” she whispers shakily.

I almost laugh. She’s adorable. “I don’t give a damn about the view.”

She tilts her head back, her lips in perfect alignment with mine. “What do you want to do, then?”

“I figured you had a case of pre-wedding nerves.” I touch her chin, tracing the point with my thumb. Drift the back of my fingers down the length of her throat. In the dim light let in from the cracked open curtains, I witness her briefly close her eyes, her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips.

Fuck. I shouldn’t do this. She’s beautiful and she’s sweet and she’s so damn vulnerable. I shouldn’t play with her heart or give in to my urges just because it’s been a couple of months since I had sex and all I can think about is getting Charlotte naked.