Page 26 of Rim Job

I was okay with a couple of months, but half a fucking year?

“Also, Christina, I have some of my own rules.”

Of course you fucking do.

I grit my teeth, wave my hand to signal him to start talking, and continue pacing.

“You'll need to attend a few family events with me.”

Okay, not so bad.

“At our estate in England.”

I stop pacing, my back to Rim.

Of course. He does live in England, after all.

I make my way to the bar, pour myself another Scotch, and drink it straight down.

How the hell could I forget he doesn't live in America?

“When would we need to be there?” I refill my glass and try to swallow the liquid courage. I grip the glass tighter, my hand is shaking so badly, I'm afraid I'll spill this Scotch all over myself.

“I have a meeting here scheduled tomorrow morning, a few loose ends to tie up. The jet will be ready to depart after that.”

I'll have to see if Kelly will stay on to help look after the book store. Glory is off on her month-long honeymoon.

Shit. I wonder if Kelly will agree?

“You can bring someone with you, if that would make you more comfortable. We have a ball next Saturday. We can fly back to America after that.”

“Can I bring two people with me?”

I gulp down more booze, it does nothing to calm my nerves. Six months in a fake marriage. Leaving my family, my home, sometimes my country.

What about my list? How far will this arrangement set me back? Hell, what has that list gotten me so far? The bookstore. I don’t even have a boyfriend. Hell, I haven’t had a real boyfriend since Bobby Burkhart in the seventh grade. I can’t even remember the last time I went on a date that resulted in a second date. Maybe I just need something different. I need to be different. I need to get out from under my self-imposed schedule and live, even if for just a few months. I need an adventure. What was ever gained without opening yourself up to new experiences?

“You can do whatever will make you most comfortable, love.”

I can do this. Six months isn't really long in the grand scheme of things. I would love to go to a ball in England. When would I ever have the chance to do that again? Never, that's when. I gulp down another glass, relishing the burn. I feel good. Warm and tingly. Maybe a bit buzzed. This will be good for me. A life experience, which, up until now, I'm seriously lacking. I can do this. One day, I'll blame this decision on hormones, booze, and poor choices. I take a deep breath, followed by one more sip, and turn to face my husband.

God, he's pretty.

“Rim.” I can't believe what I'm about to say. “I'm in.”

He flashes that handsome, bastard smile of his, pleased with himself that he's got his way.

Damn if that smile doesn't say everything his mouth isn't.

I feel that smile and its unstated promises all the way down to my toes.

This is going to be six interesting months.

14

CHRISTINA

To say I'm nervous would be an understatement. After I agreed last night, Rim drove me back to my hotel, where I continued to question my sanity. I'm still shocked I've agreed to this, but it’s time I took some chances, threw caution to the wind, and lived a bit. My list be damned.

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