I remember the episode yet didn’t appreciate the link between a murderer and Wesley.
“C’mon Liam. I know he’s done bad things but people change.”
“Milly, listen to me. You’re in danger. Please, just walk away from him. It’s not about pride here. I’m genuinely worried.”
I smile into the receiver, ignoring his desperate pleas. Liam had always protected me, and his worries were nothing of concern. It was Liam being Liam.
“I can take care of myself. Listen, I should go. Keep in touch, okay?”
“Milly…”
“Liam, just don’t. Please don’t,” I beg, softly.
With a heavy sigh, he says goodbye, reluctantly, until the sound of my cell beeps informing me the call has ended. I stare at the screen, for minutes, sad to say goodbye on such terms and wishing he could just let his anger towards Wesley go.
There wasn’t much time to dwell on his words as I make a mad dash for my car, racing home so I could change and head over to Wesley’s.
I couldn’t wait to see him.
Finally, I would get much-needed answers to the questions that would either make, or break, our relationship.
Wesley pulled out all the stops to woo me tonight.
Outside, on the patio, sat a small round table with two wicker chairs. Two candles sat on the tabletop along with some fancy china, positioned perfectly next to the pool with a view of the city lights. It was beautiful, romantic—and another side to Wesley Rich that I hadn’t seen.
I expected that a maid would serve us, so was surprised when I found Wesley in his kitchen, busily marinating the chicken with his bare hands and swaying his hips to a jazz tune that sounded slightly familiar.
“You can cook?”
“I’m not just a pretty face, baby. Pass me the paprika.”
“Is that the red stuff?”
His eyes light up with amusement, accompanied with a mischievous grin. “If you’re planning to be a housewife one day, you need to know your spices.”
“Right.” I throw a piece of cucumber at him, playfully. “That’s so sexist.”
“Why? You’d look good in a kitchen, wearing an apron and kids running around you.”
My gaze shifts towards the wine glass sitting in my hand. I swirl the wine, taking a large quantity in as I brush off the kids comment. The uneasiness that momentarily graced the pit of my stomach, disappears as the wine settles in nice. With a forced smile, I continue to tease him.
“Women around the world would crucify you if they heard that.”
“Well, lucky only the one I cared about heard, huh?”
I’m unable to hide the girly giggle that escapes my mouth; enjoying this moment with him. How can a man, barefoot and wearing shorts, be so damn sexy with a raw carcass in his hand?
“Okay, smartass. Seriously, what can I do to help?”
“Get naked.”
“Wesley! I’m serious.”
Moving to the sink, he washes his hands thoroughly before responding. “I’m serious. I haven’t fucked you since this morning. We fight in the boardroom. You called me Mr. Rich twice and you also mentioned some other boyfriend you had. Do I need to explain how hard I am right now?”
He moves towards me, wrapping his arms around my neck. His hands touch my skin; the cool sensation from the cold water causing me to shiver slightly. The dress I’m wearing exposes my shoulders and the fabric—light and flowy. Feeling slightly exposed, my posture caves in to protect myself from the cold.
Wesley positions his body against mine, allowing me to warm up. My body—now accustomed to his body temperature—begins to relax as he cups my face and draws me in, kissing me deeply. I hate that he could do this to me. Make everything go away with a simple kiss. How my body reacted first, not my heart or my head.