Tell Me You're Mine (The British Billionaires #1) - J. S. Scott Page 0,78
grumbled.
Actually, it had been exactly like that, and I wasn’t about to regret having Nicole alone in the large pod.
She hopped over to the window. “Oh, my God. This is amazing. I’m starting to see the river.”
I moved up behind her, and wrapped my arms around her waist. I pointed my finger. “You’ll be able to see Big Ben shortly, and Buckingham Palace.”
It took a very long thirty minutes to do a complete revolution, so there wasn’t much in the city she couldn’t see. It was a really clear day.
“If I had one of these close to me, I probably would have ridden it hundreds of times by now,” she said with a sigh as she leaned back against me. “There’s something about being able to see everything from the air that’s totally surreal.”
“I’m fine seeing it from terra firma,” I replied dryly.
“It’s the highest Ferris wheel in Europe,” she said with a sigh, her eyes still searching for landmarks.
“Fun fact: there is no capsule number thirteen. We Brits are a bit superstitious.”
“What?” she exclaimed with artificial outrage. “That’s my lucky number. I was born on November thirteenth. Are you superstitious?”
“Not at all. I was born on December thirteenth, so I’ve never considered it an unlucky number, either. If you remember, we met on the thirteenth of June, so I could never associate the number thirteen with anything other than good luck. However, I’d say we’re in the minority since there’s no capsule number thirteen.”
She laughed. “I don’t care. I don’t mind being unique.”
She was special all right, and not just because she loved the number thirteen.
Nicole would be singular even if she didn’t adore what was an unlucky number for many.
We took some time discovering and pointing out most of the things we’d seen during the week in London.
“There’s the Tower Bridge,” she called out, so excited that I felt like I needed to keep a tighter grip on her to keep her feet inside the capsule. “God, I feel like we’re at the top of the world.”
“I think you’re a bit of an adrenaline junkie,” I accused.
She turned and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Not really. Right now, I think I’m high on life.”
I searched her face. I had to admit that there was something different about her. She’d always been a bright light in a sometimes-dark world, but she was positively glowing at the moment. “The result of multiple orgasms, maybe?” I asked hopefully.
Honestly, the woman should be barely able to walk after the number of times I’d inserted myself between her thighs over the last few days.
She swatted my arm playfully. “A real gentleman would never mention that.”
“Sweetheart, I never claimed to be a gentleman.”
She inspired every lurid thought that crossed my mind every minute or two.
“But you’re a duke, Your Grace,” she replied, her eyes dancing with mirth.
“I’m a man,” I stressed. “A guy who never stops thinking about you naked and in the thrall of a good orgasm.”
How in the bloody hell could I forget that?
Her head thrown back in ecstasy…
Her eyes closed as her release washed over her…
The way she screamed my name like a mantra when she was in the middle of said climax…
The way she looked at me afterward, like I was the only man who could satisfy her.
I was far from being some kind of savior to her.
I was still evading the unpleasant task of telling Nicole the truth, and I fucking hated that, even though I’d decided to tell her as soon as possible.
Which was going to be at my mother’s gala.
Yeah, I’d considered coming clean earlier because the guilt of not telling Nicole was starting to eat me alive.
Every time I tried to tell her the truth about Dylan, I hadn’t been able to get the words out of my mouth.
Truth was, I didn’t want Nicole to stop seeing me as the one man she actually trusted.
I valued that trust more than I did my own life, so telling her that I’d been a major prick who had been bullshitting her all this time was going to be one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
Coward! The annoying voice in my head chimed in.
I answered. I’ll tell her after Mum’s gala. She deserves this time to enjoy her visit to the UK.
I shook my head as I realized I was arguing with…myself.
What in the hell was wrong with me?
“Maybe I’m glad you aren’t a gentleman,” Nicole murmured, and then blushed.