The next day, hating the surge of lust that made Amaya’s knees shake, she managed a mute nod while sending a silent prayer heavenward for strength. She had a feeling she’d need it to resist what the reformed bad boy had in mind for later.
Amaya’s hand shook as she waved the mascara wand over her lashes, and she blinked several times, grateful she’d chosen the waterproof kind.
She’d already been near tears twice, first when she’d opened the door to a gorgeous bouquet of frangipanis and then when she’d carefully hung her wedding dress encased in plastic on the back of the door.
Chase had sent the flowers. His note had been brief.
For my beautiful bride
Chase, x
While the flowers were breathtaking, that one little x had her clutching them and burying her nose in their heady fragrance, h
