The Smirker was back. And he was all mine.
We strode into the lobby together and were instantly swarmed by reporters and photographers, but Reed Publishing’s lawyers had hired extra security and they escorted us quickly through the crowd to the podium set up at the base of the tree.
It was smart, positioning Cabot there, standing at the base of his father’s creative vision. It reminded people of the family behind the empire, behind the company. The family who loved reading so much that they built this kingdom that had helped countless authors bring their dreams to fruition. A family that loved reading so much that they built this sanctuary at the base of Reed Tower, a safe place for children of all ages to read and dream.
As he spoke into the microphone, a speech I’d heard multiple times on Friday as his legal team curated it, and then again Saturday night and throughout yesterday as he rehearsed it, I watched him with a sense of wonder.
Just a few weeks ago, he’d been an intimidating, frustrating man.
I couldn’t pretend he wasn’t still both of those things, but he was so much more now.
His private life had been obliterated, but, instead of curling into a ball–which is what I wanted to do and probably would have done had I not had Cabot Reed by my side–he rose to the occasion.
I don’t know why I was surprised.
“What we do in our private lives is no one’s business.” Reed looked over at me and lifted his arm toward me. This was the end of the speech. As planned, he’d thank the paparazzi for showing up, then we’d leave together, a united front, return to the seventy-fifth floor, and try to move on with our lives.
“What husbands and wives do in their private time is absolutely no one’s business.”
Oh
No
That was not part of the speech.
Mayday!
Mayday!
We have veered off course, folks!
My stomach twisted into a nervous knot.
My mouth went dry.
He’d been joking about marriage.
Hadn’t he?
I mean, we’d been in the throes of passion. Literally.
The idea was preposterous. We’d known each other for less than a month!
No.
He couldn’t…
“And, since Ms. Rylan Blake has graciously agreed to become my wife–”
He wouldn’t…
“–I expect you’ll be far more focused on the wedding of ‘New York City’s most beloved publisher’ than what he does behind closed doors with the woman he loves.”
Oh, sweet baby Jesus.
He did.
Cabot Reed grinned proudly from the podium. That smile I’d only seen glimpses of was on full display for the entire world to see.
I pressed my hand to my mouth as a laugh bubbled up my throat.
Camera flashes went off all around me to a cacophony of questions and congratulations, and people coming at me from all sides.
And as he strode down the stairs, looking more smug than I’d seen him in some time, all I could do was smile, and allow him to scoop me into his arms.
“What have you done?”
He flashed a sexy smile, dipped me backwards, then planted his lips against mine.
And just like that, the magazines had a new photo to focus on.
And I had… a fiancé?