Bouncing Betty Liliana Hart (best sales books of all time TXT) đź“–
- Author: Liliana Hart
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He squeezed my hand and let out a sigh as if the weight of the world had just fallen from his shoulders.
“I could tell when you picked me up something heavy weighed on you,” I said, playing to his ego. “Important men like you have important responsibilities. I don’t think I could do it.”
“Fortunately, you have someone like me so you don’t have to,” he said.
“That sounds nice,” I said, fluttering my lashes instead of rolling my eyes.
The farther we drove down the coast and away from Marseille, the more I prepared myself to fight for my life. I’d had some basic training, but hadn’t had a lot of opportunity to put it into practice. Actually, I’d had no opportunities. I’d been successful living in the shadows without suspicion since my inception into the Alliance.
I checked the side mirror occasionally, and inched my way closer to him, checking to see if anyone followed us. But we were alone as far as I could tell. He was taking a chance not having an escort, but maybe he didn’t think a woman my size would be much of a threat. Or maybe he had an ambush waiting at our destination.
“Tell me of your family,” Wagner said. “Would they approve of me as a contender for your heart?”
“Is that what you are?” I asked, raising a brow and putting my hand back on his knee. “I think I like the sound of that.”
I let my fingers stroke in slow circles on his knee while he parked the car on the edge of the road on a curve facing the Gulf of Lion.
“I have a confession to make,” I said when he opened my door and helped me out.
“Oh?” he asked. “What kind of confession? Something deep and dark?”
“No, nothing so sinister,” I said, laughing gaily. “But it is a bit embarrassing.”
“You can trust me,” he said. “I hope you know that. We all have secrets that we’d rather keep to ourselves, but it’s important we find someone we can trust. Someone who knows the good, the bad, and the ugly.”
“You’re right,” I said, letting my vulnerability show. “I guess I’ve never had anyone I could trust like that. Not even my family.”
“Family is often the hardest to trust and the first to turn on you,” he said. “You told me at dinner the other night it wasn’t your choice to come here. But you’re a dutiful daughter and you came to find a husband like your father wanted. That’s very commendable.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, licking my lips and watching his gaze fall there.
He took a basket and a red checkered blanket from the back seat and laid it flat on a patch of grass. And then he unpacked the basket—square tins of different cheeses and a loaf of fresh bread. There were two wine glasses, and I could see the label on the bottle he uncorked. It was a fine bottle of wine more than a dozen years old, and I wondered where he’d gotten it—or who he’d taken it from. Wine wasn’t easy to come by these days.
“Sit, my dear,” he said, passing me a glass filled with dark red liquid. “And share your confession.”
I inhaled the bouquet. I hated wine. I’d grown up with a taste for whiskey, but I pretended to take a sip and then settled my skirt as I knelt next to him on the blanket.
“Well then, if I’m going to confess then you must know I sent a note to Helene today. I saw in the paper the train was coming in from Paris with supplies, and coming by to see Helene was the only thing I could think of so I could see you sooner. I was afraid you wouldn’t call on me again.”
His face creased into a smile and he took my wine glass from me, setting them both aside. “I think that’s wonderful,” he said. “I have a confession to make too.”
He’d moved subtly closer and I knew he was going to try and kiss me. I pretended it was Graham in front of me, and I looked at Wagner with nothing but love and desire.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“I’m finding it very hard to act like a gentleman around you,” he said. I felt his breath against my lips and then he nipped at my bottom lip. “I don’t think you realize how beautiful you are. How enticing to a man’s senses. I want you very much. Do you know what I mean by that?”
I nodded and said, “I think so.” And then I bit my lip in worry. “Are you asking me to be your lover?”
“I am,” he said. “I’d also like you to be my wife. But right now I need to be alone with you.”
“We’re alone now,” I said breathlessly.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m never alone. There’s always someone watching.”
I frowned at that. How had I not seen or felt eyes on us?
“Don’t worry,” he said, smoothing the lines from my face. “They won’t bother us. And they’re very discreet. After the events of last night and this morning it’s best to take extra precautions.”
“What happened last night?” I asked.
His expression darkened. “I don’t want to ruin the moment by discussing it, and it’s nothing for you to worry about. What I’m asking is if you’re willing to come to me tomorrow night. We’ll have the house to ourselves, and I’ll plan a romantic dinner. In essence, we’ll have our honeymoon before the wedding.”
“Yes,” I burst out, my excitement barely contained. From what I gathered, he seemed to enjoy the fact that I was innocent and naïve. I could sense the evil in him,
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