The Note (Manhattan Nights #5) - Natalie Wrye Page 0,71

within the span of less than two weeks, I’ve already given vital parts of myself to him fully—and scarily freely.

Laying here in his family estate’s bed, I feel myself starting to believe in fairytales for the first time in a long time, knowing I’ve met my match.

The man whose passion and possession complemented my own.

There was no “faking” the fast and furious several hours that we’d spent in this expansive bed together.

And when he emerges from the bathroom, fully dressed in his usual dark slacks, he cements my new reality with a kiss to my swollen lips. He pulls back, fastening the first button below his collar before heading to the bedroom door.

Leaving the smell of his cologne and his heavy essence in his wake, he closes it behind him with a small smirk, sending my hormones raging again.

Sixty seconds after he’s gone, I head for the shower, the sound of Sinatra in my heart. Humming the tune to “I’ve Got You under My Skin,” I’m almost done soaping my body when I hear the bedroom door slam, catching my attention.

I can’t rinse off fast enough at the thought of Noah returning for round two, and with my hair still soaking wet, dripping over my shoulders, with ears still half-filled with suds, I wrap a nearby towel around breasts heading back to the bedroom.

But the person standing inside threshold isn’t Noah.

Not even close.

A beautiful blonde with a full bob stares at me from behind the collar of a damp trench coat, and I blink back the bubbles falling slowly from my still-wet forehead.

I swipe my hands over my face, clearing them away.

I stare. “Can I help you?”

The blonde gapes blankly, her shiny heels shifting. She drops a tiny bag I hadn’t noticed until now onto the floor.

Crossing her arms in front of her coat, she taps her elbows with a set of manicured hands, her gaze sweeping me from head to toe. She clears her throat.

“I’m sorry. I’m looking for Noah Quinn. I thought this was his room…”

“It is.” I nod, gripping my towel tighter. “But Noah’s not here. May I ask who’s looking for him?”

Her pink lips pull tight. “You can tell him his fiancée’s looking for him.” She cocks a blonde brow, walking forward.

“Nice to meet you.” Extending a hand, the polish of her perfect fingernails gleams under the low light, and suddenly I can’t breathe. I gape at her smooth fingers, and she smiles.

“My name is Ainsley. What’s yours?”

Chapter 23

NOAH

There’s nothing like the smell of a woman on your skin to make the minutes go by slowly.

The taste of Sophia’s kiss is still on my mind and on my tongue. Sitting in the en suite cottage’s grandiose dining hall beside Lachlan and the rest of the groomsmen, I listen intently to the wedding’s officiating reverend, wishing I had stayed in the bedroom with Sophia when I had a chance.

Lachlan in a collared shirt nudges me from his seat at the grand oak table. “I need a drink.”

I can’t lie. The thought of scotch has been in the recesses of my mind, swimming in the back.

But I sip a dark coffee instead, my ears struggling to pick up the soft sayings of the graying man who smells a little like moth balls. The reverend coughs out loud, straightening to his full height.

He folds his wrinkled hands in front of his shirt, his dark eyes deep. “Now, gentlemen, Jase asked that I, as the official wedding officiant and counselor to the lovely couple, come here today to lead the wedding party into this wedding with the best possible Godly energy.”

Lachlan mutters near my ear, his voice a grated whisper. “Godly energy? Hell, I don’t think there’s anything ‘Godly’ about the energy Jase plans to give to Mindy tonight.”

I mumble. “Give it a rest, Lach. Or the rev might keep us here all day and night.”

Lach bites back. “I don’t think this geezer will live through the rest of today and tonight. He’s got one foot in the grave as we speak. I saw buzzers circling the house earlier and I think they were for him.”

“Be quiet,” I hiss. “Do you want a first class ticket to Hell for talking over a reverend?

“First-class ticket to Hell?” My younger brother leans in. “Noah, I’m experienced enough to be the pilot on a flight to Hell. Might even be able to get a discount, if you’re looking for one…” He smirks.

I glance up at the reverend, who’s just started on a spiel