Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i read book txt) 📕

the passion I feel inside and my agonizing mind finds a never-known peace as Eva’s flowery breath tickles and teases my skin.

Just as I start to let go of control, Eva breaks our kiss. She bends back, smiling. “I’ll go and try on my dress. Will you wait for me here?”

“Sure.”

She takes off, grabbing her gown from the chair.

I amble to their living room and walk along a wall filled with pictures. I stop in front of one showing a teenaged-Eva with her mother. I stare at Eva’s grinning face as the realization that dawned on me during our kiss settles in.

Oh man, who would have thought? Me in love?

But I am. I clearly am. And it’s my end.

I rub my face with both hands.

It’s all my fault. I should have never been so cocky as to play with a woman’s heart. I should have never believed I could be immune to love’s flaming power. Now I need to pay the price for my own idiocy.

As I’m about to let my self-pity get the best of me, Father’s voice speaks in my head.

What’s one of the most crucial rules of business?

I know the answer without having to search for it because in my short time with him, he must have repeated it to me at least a hundred times.

There is always a compromise that satisfies everyone.

A crazy idea occurs to me.

What if…yes, why not? My neurons are on fire as I consider all implications and possible scenarios, but I can’t find any major problems with it. It might not be that foolish of a plan after all, even if it was created by the whim of the moment.

Everything really could go the way I want.

Nobody knows I love Eva. I didn’t even confess it to her yet. So there’s no reason it shouldn’t work, right? I could lead AMEA. Triumph over Murphy. Demonstrate my worth to Mother. Honor Father’s last wish. And stay with the woman I love.

Yes, if I pull it off correctly, I could get everything I want.

Chapter 29

(Nathan - Day 7)

I glance at my watch.

Where is Eva?

I sent a chauffeured limousine to pick her up at nine. I smile inwardly at the image of how Eva’s neighbors, especially Señor Moreno, will probably gawk at the giant car rolling into their street. I hope Eva is proud to walk out in her princess gown and get into it.

The ballroom in Mother’s residence grows more and more sultry as the guests keep arriving. The ice sculptures sitting on top of the long tables set with white damask tablecloths are going to melt soon if somebody doesn’t open the windows.

I look around, but I can’t locate Marjorie or Mother’s event organizer. All I see are white-gloved waiters circulating to offer canapés and men in tuxedos and women with glitzy, frothy dresses swallowing them down with one gulp.

Fine, I need a break from my welcoming duty anyway.

Overseeing the arrival of guests is a superfluous task. Most of the attendees know each other from previous events or gatherings our company has organized over the years, so they’re having fun without my specific intervention. I told Marjorie this, but she insisted that, as future CEO, it would give the right impression if I stay and personally shake everyone’s hands as they enter.

I stride over to the large French windows. I pull aside the thick velvet drape, which has been switched to a burgundy color for tonight to match the carpet runners flowing down the stairs. I grab the veranda door’s handle and push it ajar.

I bask in the refreshing breeze that skates inside and ruffles the petals on the elaborate floral centerpieces. I can’t wait to tell Eva that I convinced my aunt to order them from Eva’s florist friend. I’m hoping Eva will be happy knowing that we helped Cathy’s business a little. I’m just sorry that I came up too late with the proposition about the charity choice that would have benefited the cause I know lies so close to Eva’s heart.

I check the limousines lining up around the circular driveway where the temporary valet parking has been set up.

Eva’s hasn’t arrived yet. I knew it would have been better to go and pick her up personally, but Mother and Malcom’s delay made it impossible for me to leave.

People seem to think that private jets can’t be late. The heck they can’t. Especially when my step-father is on board. I’m sure their delay is on him. As an ex-pilot, he loves to find last minute security problems. But couldn’t he quit showing off his know-how just this once? It’s Mother’s fundraiser and they might even miss it.

And that would mean Mother can’t meet Eva tonight.

I watch as two elderly women, wives to Mr. Bruno and Sir Gavandale, if I’m not mistaken, air-kiss each other. They look ridiculous as they bounce their heads from left to right with great care to avoid smearing their lipstick.

These balls were never my favorite, but today’s is making me even more uneasy. I need to make sure I execute my strategy with Murphy and Mother flawlessly. One false move and it could all come crumbling down.

Someone taps my back with force, and a friendly deep baritone chuckles beside me. “I always assumed that giving back to charity is great…but doing so while wearing a designer ball gown under vaulted ceilings with scalloped edging and custom molding? What could be better than this?”

I recognize the snarky commentator’s voice at once, and a grin spreads across my face as I whip around. “Zach, my friend, you made it. I wasn’t sure you could.”

Zach adjusts the bowtie on his tight collar shirt and winks. “You left me a message that you needed my legal advice. So here I am. Which potential client do you want me to soften up for you during this posh evening, my friend?”

“None.”

Zach furrows his dark brows. “Ah, yeah? Then why did I have to drop everything and fly over here?” He