Free Seducing Zeb (Tarnished Saints Series) by Elizabeth Rose Page B

to believe what she’d just heard.
    “You have a voice act ivated . . . butler?”
    “Not a butler – a virtual assistant. I guess you’d say . . . a maid.”
    “I noticed. And you even named her. What will you be asking her to do for you next?”
    “Oh, stop it, Cat and look at the view.”
    “It is a nice view,” she said, walking over and staring out at the lake. It was a beautiful day and the sky was blue with puffy white clouds. Through the wall-to-wall windows it almost seemed like a perfect painting.
    “Jeeva, open patio doors ,” he said, and all of a sudden the clicking sound of a lock was heard and the windowed walls slid open, revealing the balcony that had two lounge chairs, a hot tub and what looked like garden squares with growing flowers and small shrubs in them.
    “Patio doors are opened, Master Zeb,” came the woman’s voice again.
    “The master part has got to go,” she said feeling disgusted by his arrogance. “Still, this is unbelievable.” She walked out onto the balcony to get a better look. The breeze hit her in the face and she could hear the sound of the waves washing up upon the shore in the distance. “Romantic,” she said under her breath, feeling happy yet sad all at the same time.
    “That it is.” He unfastened his tie and slid it off, followed by his jacket. “Have a seat an d I’ll get us some refreshments.”
    The sun was just setting over the lake and it was making the most beautiful swirls and shades of red and orange. She kicked off her shoes and settled herself on the lounge chair and before she knew it, Zeb was back with a bottle of chilled champagne and two crystal flute glasses as well as a tray of what looked like bruschetta atop small pieces of crusty bread. “I hope you like bruschetta and Dom Perignon,” he said.
    “I . . . guess so ,” she answered, not knowing how to respond to that. She knew she liked bruschetta but had never had such an expensive champagne before. That champagne had to cost at least a hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars a bottle. “I’ve never had Dom Perignon before.”
    “Well, since this is our honeymoon, I thought w e should enjoy it even if our marriage is pretend and won’t last long.” He set the two flutes down on the table and popped the cork and poured them some drinks. Then he handed one to her and held his out. “A toast. To the shortest marriage either of us will hopefully ever have.”
    She wasn’t sure what that meant or if she really wanted to drink to that, but before she knew it, he’d clinked her glass and was leaning on the railing looking out over the lake. “So surreal, isn’t it?” he asked. “I like living here because it makes me forget about everything and it relaxes me to be here.”
    “What’s wrong with Thu nder Lake?” She took a sip of champagne, feeling the bubbles tickling her nose. “After all, by living here, you’re separating yourself from your brothers and their families.”
    “Thunder Lake is just a watering hole, and Sweet Water is so small it doesn’t even have a fire station or more than one real restaurant in town.”
    “But it’s where your family is. I’d think family would be important to you and you’d want to be around them.”
    “I’m close enough here,” he said, coming to sit down and helping himself to some bruschetta. “Besides, half my brothers don’t even live here, so what’s the difference?” He took a bite, licked his lips and nodded to the plate. “Try some. It’s leftovers from a quaint little restaurant not far from here. I love bruschetta. When I was in law school, I would go into a restaurant - and since I couldn’t afford a whole dinner I’d order just this.”
    “You ought to make it yourself. You’d probably save a lot of money.”
    “Maybe.” He took another bite, staring out the window again. “But I enjoy eating out. Being a bachelor, I don’t have anyone at home cooking for me, so it doesn’t matter.”
    She cleared her