NOLA
The black SUV glides up the long, winding driveway of a manor that looks more like a fortress than a residence, the stone walls draped in ivy and the windows glowing with a dim, amber light that feels almost secretive, and as the valet opens my door, the cool night air hits my skin, making the silk of my dress cling to my legs in a way that makes me feel exposed and shielded all at once.
Rhett is around the car before the valet can even blink, his hand finding the small of my back and pulling me flush against his side, his touch is possessive, a silent command to stay close, and I can feel the heat radiating off him, a stark contrast to the formal, chilly atmosphere of the estate.
"Remember what I said," he mutters, his lips brushing my ear as we walk toward the massive oak doors,
