Marriage: Impossible (Voretti Family Book 1) by Ava Blackstone Read Free Book Online

living inside a fairy tale. Sean had relegated her to the Little Sister compartment for too long to think he was going to perform a drastic reorganization based on one soulful look.
    The first order of business was to get him alone. “Let’s order in.”
    He looked like he was about to object, so she added, “I’m exhausted.”
    “Yeah. Sure.” His look of concern triggered a mild pang of guilt. But then he put his arm around her, pressing her against a wall of warm, strong muscle, and she congratulated herself on her ingenuity.
    Everything was different with him so close. The air smelled fresher. The slight chill seemed romantic instead of cold—an excuse to cuddle closer. The walk to the hotel lobby didn’t last nearly long enough, and all too soon, Sean was letting go of her to get out his wallet.
    He didn’t mention separate rooms—another good sign—and, as they strolled down the hall, they could’ve been any of the other normal couples in the place.
    He held the door open for her. She walked inside, went straight to the room-service menu, and ordered two plates of Chicken Marsala because it was the first entrée on the list.
    Sean had disappeared into the bathroom by the time she got off the phone. She took the opportunity to close the curtains, giving them privacy. The overhead light gave the room a sterile, institutional feel, so she switched it off, leaving only a single lamp.
    After what felt like forever, Sean finally came out of the bathroom. His hair was wet, like he’d dunked his head under the faucet. He’d taken off his shoes, leaving him in a black cotton shirt that conformed to every muscle and a pair of jeans that looked soft to the touch.
    Her whole body hummed. She took a step toward him.
    “Why is it so dark in here?” He flipped the switch, taking the lighting from a romantic glow to the unrelenting glare of an operating room.
    “No reason. I mean, I had a little bit of a headache, so…”
    “Oh. Sorry.” He flipped the switch back.
    He strode toward her, like he’d finally gotten all those subliminal get-over-here-and-kiss-me messages she was sending his way—only he walked right past her. “Get some sleep. I’ll grab some food at the bar so I don’t bother you.”
    “No!”
    He stopped, one hand on the doorknob.
    Not so loud. You’re trying to seduce him, not blow out his eardrums . “It’s not a very bad headache. And I took an aspirin, so I’m sure it’ll be gone soon. Plus I already ordered food.”
    Room service arrived, postponing any additional objections. The waiter set their plates on the small table. Sean tipped him, and then the man was gone.
    Leaving her and Sean alone in the room.
    “Are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” He pulled out a chair, but didn’t sit.
    “Of course. Doesn’t that smell amazing?” She couldn’t smell anything but Sean—that mix of outdoors and sunshine and man.
    A pause. Then, “Yeah.”
    Her whole body responded to the way he rasped that single syllable out.
    Relax. He’s talking about the food .
    He finally settled on the edge of the chair.
    She sat as close to him as she could—not difficult because the table was tiny. She’d once read in Trendsetter Magazine that the best way to turn a guy on was to get him to focus on your lips. Okay. She could do that.
    She cut a piece of her chicken. “This looks great.”
    Sean looked up, exactly like she’d hoped, and she slipped the bite into her mouth. Then she sucked every bit of sauce off the fork. Slowly.
    His gaze stayed right there, locked onto her. Except, what if he was staring because she looked ridiculous? It was too dark to get a good read on his expression. Why had she turned off so many lights? Why had she ordered Chicken Marsala instead of oysters or scallops or molten chocolate cake? Chicken Marsala was not sexy. Why hadn’t she dated more in college so she’d have some idea of how to seduce a man that came from experience rather than a magazine