Page 72 of Below Deck Billionaire
Just like their wedding, it was a small affair, with only a handful of her and Theo’s closest friends and family. Theo’s parents and grandparents plus Tiffany’s mother and Mikey, who’d moved to Paris a year ago. Vasilis and Deidre and the twins were here, as were Dimitri and Helena Kouris. Also present were Ivan – looking resplendent in his kilt – and Kelly, who still claimed they’d known from day one that she and Theo were going to end up together.
And Ari and Kelsey, of course, along with Cora, their now eighteen-month-old little girl who was the apple of everyone’s eye.
Tiffany inhaled deeply as she watched the scene from the back railing, a pile of her books ready to be signed nearby. Sunshine warmed her lungs and burst through her chest in a bloom of radiant contentment. Never in a million years had she imagined she could have this kind of life – the man of her dreams, the place of her dreams, the job of her dreams.
‘Your soda water,’ Theo murmured as he slid in behind her, pulling her back into him, his arms slipping around her waist, his hands splaying against the bulge of her thirty-week baby bump.
‘Thank you.’
Kissing her temple, he whispered, ‘You did it.’
Tiffany smiled. ‘We did it.’ Because she couldn’t have done it without his faith and encouragement and total belief in her ability.
‘Happy?’
‘More than I’d ever thought possible. You?’
‘I am the luckiest man on the planet.’
She held up her glass. ‘To the best worst feeling in the world.’
Chuckling, Theo also raised his glass. ‘To love.’
And they tapped.
* * *
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MORE FROM AMY ANDREWS
We hope you enjoyed readingBelow Deck Billionaire. If you did,please leave a review. If you’d like to gift a copy, this book is available to purchase in paperback, hardback, large print and audio.
Undercover Billionaire, another gorgeously spicy book from Amy Andrews, is available to buy now by clicking on the image below. Or read on for an exclusive extract…
Chapter One
Fuck!People.So many damn people. Happy, smiling, selfie-clicking people. Loud T-shirts and flip-flop people. Floral swimsuits and Speedos people.
Too much cleavage.Waytoo much cockage.
And not even the nearby tray full of frothy drinks with bright red cherries could make up for the fact that Aristotle Callisthenes – or Ari George for the next week, anyway – was stuck with three thousandpeoplefor the next seven days and nights.
On a boat. In the middle of the Mediterranean. Where his ability to get away was severely hampered.
Dull pain from an encroaching headache gnawed at his temples. Ari didn’tdopeople. Sure, most days of his life hehadto interact with them, but it just wasn’t his forte. Give him numbers and spreadsheets any time!
Only seven more days…Christe!
He plonked his ass on the bar seat. ‘Whisky,’ he said, barely looking at the approaching waitress as he slid his hand over the wood grain checking for stickiness. ‘Neat.’
‘That’s a pretty serious drink for not even half past eleven in the morning.’
Ari glanced up to find a pair of pale green eyes sparkling at him above a little snub nose and a wide mouth turned upwards at the corners. The top lip was dominated by a fascinating Cupid’s bow. The kind that invited licking. The kind he might have found irresistible once upon a time.
