Page 25 of His Wild Seduction

But I trusted she wasn’t doing anything diabolical with it. If she spent some money to pamper herself with expensive body cream, who was I to judge?

Fact was, I hunted for the origins of her cocoa butter scent until I finally found the closest thing to it in a Swiss chocolate shop when I’d been overseas for Volkov Industries.

It was a short jump to where she got the cream. Since I couldn’t walk around smelling like a chick, I did the next best thing. I bought the chocolate. By the fucking ton.

Apparently, it was all made in the same little town where her body butter was made. Both the chocolates and the body cream used the same grade cocoa butter.

Every single fucking night I ate a piece.

No, I did not gorge myself.

I couldn’t.

My position demanded I keep fit. So being a glutton was out of the question.

But I was definitely an addict.

Limiting myself to one piece with the promise of another the next day was the only way I made it through some nights.

But I was marrying Meredith now. I’d have access to her softly scented skin whenever I wanted it.

Hmmmm.

I wondered if the chocolate would still be necessary.

Breathing in her sweet flavor, I sure as fuck didn’t think so.

After all, it wasn’t chocolate that I was addicted to.

It was her.

My gaze raked over her from the pile of red curls pinned on top of her head in glorious disarray, down the flutter-sleeved dark pink gown she wore that hugged her curves in all the right places.

The deep v showed a scandalous amount of cleavage, and my mouth was fucking watering for a taste.

She looked like the perfect combination of innocent and wicked. She looked like a fucking goddess, promising heaven, but more likely to send me to hell with a blink of her emerald eyes.

“You look,” I said, pausing when my voice sounded rougher than I wanted.

“Oh, um, I exchanged the dress,” she confessed, as if I didn’t know.

I’d asked for something classy in an ivory or off-white. Something that said bride or first wedding, but nothing in stark white cause I knew she hated it.

I remembered.

But this was so much better. I couldn’t believe I didn’t think of pink. She used to always wear one shade of pink or other. I just never considered it for a bride.

More fool me.

She was breathtaking.

“You went to the boutique?” I asked, suddenly angry that she left without me knowing.

“No. I called down. The salesperson did a video call and showed me the selections they had available. I hope you don’t mind. I have money if?—”

“Little Red, I don’t ever want you to offer me money again. Understand?”

The idea of her paying for anything made my hackles rise. Wasn’t money the reason she left me to begin with?

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