Finding Summer - Suzanne Halliday Page 0,275

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The depth of her trust humbled him when she complied without any evident qualms.

He took a jewelry box from his inside pocket, opened it, and lifted the heavy diamond necklace out.

Goddammit. His fingers picked the wrong time to turn clumsy. He fumbled, and muttered, “Shit,” when he almost dropped the damn thing into her cleavage. Fishing tens of thousands of dollars worth of diamonds from between her boobs sounded like fun but wasn’t quite the romantic gesture he envisioned.

Summer’s giddy excitement slammed into him like charging buffalo. She had to be aware of his all-thumbs struggle. Even with her eyes closed, it was hard to miss. When her lips quivered, and he looked closer, it hit him how hard she was trying to keep from laughing.

The clasp of the necklace must have been fashioned by someone with a dark sense of humor. It looked fastened, but he wasn’t sure. Visions of the magnificent bling sliding off his lady’s neck in mid-conversation brought him once again to the diamonds-in-cleavage predicament.

Moving to her front, he plucked a chandelier earring from the box. How did he know what chandelier style was? He didn’t, but his grandfather had a salesman side. When the old guy handed over the case, Granddad filled him in with the specs and fancy words.

Threading the earrings through her ears was also fun times. Maybe if he wasn’t nervously shaking, it would have been easy but no such luck. He bent his knees to get a closer look at what he was doing. With his face next to hers, he inhaled her perfume. The scent was soft and dreamy like her.

When he managed the second earring and stepped back for a look, he raised his fists to mimic the win, and mouthed the words, “Mission accomplished.”

He touched the glittering diamonds where they laid against her skin. The daring neckline spotlighted her bodacious ta-tas in all their double-D glory. Smiling, he dropped a kiss on each mound and surveyed his handiwork.

Perfection.

He put his hands on her shoulders and carefully turned her to face a wall mirror. From behind, he whispered into her ear, “You can drop your hands now and open your eyes.”

She quivered and let out a long sigh. When her eyes slowly opened, he had a front row seat as surprise and joy filled her expression.

“Oh my god, Arnie. What did you do?”

Recognizing one of this evening’s most important moments when it stared him in the face, he kissed her neck and smiled at her reflection.

“I didn’t do anything,” he drawled. “These are for you from my mother.”

“Shut up.” She gasped as her hand reached up and gingerly touched the magnificent necklace. “These are Lianne’s?”

“They were. Now they’re yours. Do you like?”

“Like?” He saw her eyes tear and her mouth wobble.

She turned and melted into his arms. “Kiss me before I start crying and mess up my makeup.”

“My pleasure,” he murmured before tasting her lips with gentle kisses.

“My lippy looks good on you,” she teased when they separated and smiled at each other.

Reaching for the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket, she found a handkerchief and pulled it out. Shaking it out, she gathered a corner and used it to swipe her lipstick off his mouth.

She repeated the procedure on her mouth and then turned back to the mirror. When she dug in her cleavage and produced a lipstick case, he nearly dropped to the floor in hysterics.

“Hush.” She laughed.

“Dottie says every woman comes equipped with a Puerto Rican purse. I once watched her pull a Walther PPK, James Bond’s preferred pistol, out of her bra.”

Summer’s eyes widened. “Did she shoot?”

“Of course she did.” He laughed. “You’ve met her, right?”

She applied the lipstick, made a noise with her lips, and arched a brow at him in the mirror. “I can’t tell when you’re joking or serious.”

Well aware of his grin’s ability to turn up the sexual heat on even the most mundane of moments, he gave her the Wanamaker smirk, grinned bigger when her eyes flared, and drawled, “Just trying to keep the romance alive.”

She slid out of his grasp and stood in the middle of the study, twirling in her gown. “How do I look?”

The words “very fuckable” almost fell out of his stupid mouth. Applying the brakes, he put it in reverse, backed it up a little, and came back with something less rude and hopefully more in keeping with the evening he had planned.

“You look like a fairy-tale heroine on her way to a magical ball.”

Groaning,

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