Their Love

I’d managed to stifle my huge sigh of relief. And yet…fucking eighteen? Damn, that made me seventeen years older than her. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Happy birthday, peaches,” I’d said in a much smoother tone. I wanted to reach out and run my finger over the pink dusting her cheeks and nose. I was betting that her skin was softer than silk.

“Peaches?” Her blush deepened, and her smile widened, revealing two deep dimples. I was so fucked.

“I don’t know your name, but you look like a peaches to me,” I teased.

She’d giggled and flashed those lethal dimples my way again. “Hazel.”

Beautiful.

When she beamed and thanked me, I realized I’d said it out loud.

“You’re very handsome,” she whispered shyly, making me want to preen like a damn peacock. I wasn’t ignorant of my effect on women, I just hadn’t cared before now. I wore my shortish, dark hair gelled into a style that was similar to a fauxhawk but acceptable in the business world. My green eyes were dark and fringed with thick, black lashes. My face was lean with a strong jaw and nose, covered with a neatly trimmed beard. According to some ridiculous articles and “sexiest whatever” lists, even the small scar on the top of my right cheekbone was appealing. Daily visits to the gym kept me cut and strong. I was lean but ripped as fuck. As her green eyes swept over me, I felt as though my skin had been singed by fire in every spot she looked.

I was about to reply when an older man who looked to be only a few years older than me had stepped behind her and watched me warily. From his features, it was easy to tell that he was her father. “Can I help you?” he’d asked gruffly.

My eyes had drifted down to my peaches again but lifted to her father’s when he cleared his throat. I swallowed hard and forced myself to step away. I bought a few peaches—no other fruit appealed to me anymore—before dragging my ass back to my Maserati and lowering my big frame into the driver’s seat.

I started the car and put it in drive, my eyes on her the whole time. My windows were tinted, but it seemed almost as though she could feel my gaze because she kept looking my way since her eyes met mine every time. It took everything in me to finally drive away. With every mile, it became clearer that I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life.

By the time I reached my destination, I’d realized what a huge fucking mistake I’d made. I called my secretary and had her make my apologies to my associates as I squealed tires and drove like a bat out of hell back to the fruit stand.

It took me a couple of days to convince her father to let me spend some time with her. If he’d pushed back even for one more day, I would have simply taken her. But it was clear that my girl loved her family, and I didn’t want to cause a rift. Still, for those two days, I was never far from her. I couldn’t stand it. I’d even found a back road onto their land and had spent a good portion of every night lurking near her window. Watching her sleep, knowing she was safe and peaceful, was the only thing that gave me any comfort.

When I was finally allowed to take her on a date, I’d pulled out all the stops, flying her back to NYC in a helicopter. I took her shopping for a dress, then we attended the ballet—since she had ballet slippers hanging in her room and ballerinas on her bedspread—and ended the night with dinner at The Rainbow Room. Throughout the night, she’d had a look of wonder on her sweet face as she chattered constantly. It was adorable and made me confident that my plan was working. I wanted to impress her, to sweep her off her feet and make her fall in love with me. If this was the life she wanted, I would give it to her. She could have anything she wanted, and I made sure she knew it. I also gave her light, teasing touches all night to get her used to me. From the shivers some of them elicited, I knew she felt the burn between us.

Her sweet innocence and genuine reactions had been refreshing and a huge turn on. But the more I’d gotten to know her, I found myself intrigued by her quick wit and intelligence. She was my little country bumpkin, and I hoped she’d never change.

When we returned to her town, I’d driven towards her home but pulled over a few miles from the house. Unable to stand it even another minute, I’d unbuckled her belt and dragged her onto my lap. A simple touch of our lips was all it took to have my body engulfed in flames. I wanted more—so much more—I wanted it all. But, not like that. I decided right then that our first time would be on our wedding night.