Page 57 of Beyond the Hate

“You really don’t know how beautiful you are.”

“Trust me. I have two evil stepsisters and a wicked stepfather who would disagree with you.”

“They’re assholes. Forget about them.” I tap the package. “Now, open your present.”

She places a finger underneath the tape, making sure to not tear the wrapping as she opens the gift.

I chuckle. “Why am I not surprised you don’t rip into presents?”

“There’s no reason to be a savage. I wasn’t…” She trails off when she opens the box. She pulls the lace shawl out and lifts it in the air. “It’s gorgeous.”

“I know you don’t care but it’s made of leavers lace from France.”

She caresses the lace with her fingers. “It’s unbelievably soft.”

“As is your beautiful skin.” I trace a finger down her arm and she shivers in response.

“I’ll accept this gift if you stop calling me beautiful.”

I’ll call her beautiful as often as I want to. Until she realizes how beautiful she is.

When we eventually part ways, she’ll know just how beautiful a woman she is.

Chapter 18

“I’ll try the champagne but I can’t promise I won’t throw it in the face of the next person who flirts with Eli.” ~ Paisley

Paisley

Eli wraps the lace shawl over my shoulders. “Are you ready?”

I glance out of the limo at the red carpet. There are people lined up on either side of it as well as reporters waiting at the curb.

“I didn’t realize our arrival would be documented.”

He kisses my nose. “Ignore them. This night is for you and me.”

Not exactly. “And the money we raise for women’s equality.”

He smiles. “Naturally.”

The driver knocks on the door. I don’t get a chance to respond before he opens it. Eli steps out and offers me his hand. I let him help me out of the vehicle since the slit in this dress could be pornographic if I’m not careful.

Flashes from the numerous cameras nearly blind me as we walk from the limo down the red carpet to the entry of the Smithsonian Art Museum. A woman is waiting at the door.

“Good evening, Mr. Raider.” She flashes him a brilliant smile before narrowing her eyes on me. “You didn’t RSVP with a guest.”

“Oh? Would you prefer we leave?”

She immediately backpedals. “Of course not.”

A security guard opens the door and we enter the museum. It’s already crowded with groups of people standing around drinking champagne. The area is adorned with floral arrangements and artistic centerpieces on various cocktail tables scattered throughout the room. The colors white, purple, and green feature prominently.

A woman bustles toward us. “Mr. Raider.” Her gaze travels over his body and she bites her lip. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ripped her clothes off and offered herself to him as a sacrifice.

My stomach sours with jealousy – this woman is gorgeous in the way my stepsisters are and I will never be. A growl escapes before I can stop it.

Eli glances at me and smiles in reassurance before placing a hand on my hip and squeezing. The move is possessive, which normally irks me – men shouldn’t own women – but instead of being annoyed, my body fills with warmth at his claim on me.

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