Page 150 of Dirty Husband
Or I can't tell if she's pretending.
I guess it doesn't matter. She's charming them. Of course, she is.
Who could possibly resist Jasmine?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jasmine
Rich men and power.
Which came first? The lust for power or the wealth?
All three of the men here are jockeying for position. For some reason. Something to do with this agreement.
I smile like I don't notice. Let Diablo tease me about Shep's reputation. Smile and shrugI'll never tell.
That's my job here.
I smile. I charm. I look pretty.
Honestly, I don't mind it. It's closer to acting than my old gig. Less kissing ass too.
Men respect a trophy fiancée a lot more than they respect an assistant.
Marcus goes on and on about the cocoa farming process. It's interesting, actually—the process of growing and shelling the fruit, fermenting the beans, breaking them into smaller pieces. What isn't interesting is Marcus's constant bragging.
His farm is the greatest and his farmers are the greatest and his beans are the greatest.
At least he insists on paying his people well. Even if it's for the bragging rights.
I have to admit. The melted chocolate is amazing. Better than any I've ever tasted. Sweet and nutty with the perfect texture.
I lose myself in sculpting it into adorable shapes, adding essential oils, creating a signature bar.
Ginger and dried cranberries.
Of course, it's not what I really want. What I really want is an oolong chocolate. It's possible too. As Marcus explains, I need to keep a finished bar in a glass container with leaves. The fat in the chocolate pics up the flavor through the air.
Apparently, it's easy to scent chocolate.
It even picks up people's perfume.
I guess we're similar that way, absorbing everything around us. Holding on to it. Giving it away later.
But this…
I don't want to hold on to the memories of rich man bullshit. No, I'm holding onto the site of Shep with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, his gloved hands covered in melted chocolate.
A dollop on his nose.
The taste of his skin under the cocoa.
The way he smiles as I lick it off.
This is perfect.
Everything else surrounding it is complicated. But, hey, I'm in Rome with my fiancé, nibbling gourmet chocolate.
