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“Sir, Fitzwilliam Van De Burg is here,” our housekeeper Beth informs me.
Yawning tiredly, I nod. “Thanks, Beth. He’s here for Izzy. I’ll go and wake her up.”
She nods, then walks away, and I pull a pair of sweats over my boxers and cross the hallway to the room opposite mine where Izzy slept last night. Lifting up my fist, I knock at the door, then wait. When no one answers after a couple of minutes, I knock again, but there’s still no reply. Twisting the handle, I gently push the door open an inch.
“Izzy,” I call into the dark room, before I push the door open a little further and step inside.
It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, I spot Izzy curled into a ball in the very middle of the huge bed. Her hair is spread out like a halo around her head, and she looks beautiful and fucking tiny.
A sudden surge of guilt hits me, and for a moment I feel bad about this game I’m forcing her to play.
“We’re not actually getting married, so it’s kind of creepy that you’re in here,” she grumbles, her voice croaky and sleep-filled.
“I knocked,” I say dismissively. “You need to get up. Fitzy’s here.”
Groaning, she rolls to her back and stretches like a cat in the bed. The covers fall to her hips, and the top she’s wearing lifts, showing me a glimpse of her smooth stomach. “I need to go home. It’s only going to get worse the longer I stay away. I should go and try to somehow explain all this bullshit you’ve created.”
“Fuck them,” I say indignantly.
She sits up in bed, and her hair falls messily around her shoulders. “Fuck them?” she enunciates slowly. “I live with them. What do you suggest I do? Move in with you for the next six months so I don’t have to deal with all the bullshit lies you word vomited last night?”
I shrug. “You can if you want.”
Her expression becomes incredulous. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t know you.”
I shrug again. “The offer still stands if you change your mind, but I’m sure they’ll get over it. Now they can focus on forcing some other idiot to marry your sister and stop wasting time on me.”
Shaking her head, she closes her eyes and rubs at her temples with her fingers. “I need to take a shower. Could you please let Fitzy know I’ll be down in ten minutes?”
“Sure, you want coffee?”
“So much coffee,” she replies, climbing off the bed and flashing me a glimpse of her toned, sexy legs as she crosses the room to the bathroom.
I watch her for a second too long, my dick enthusiastic and waving hello inside of my boxers. Turning, I head for my room and jump in the shower, grabbing my dick and imagining how Izzy would look bent over in nothing but my shirt while I fucked her tight, wet cunt. Less than two minutes later, I watch the water wash my cum away. Quickly shampooing my hair and washing my body, I rush to get dressed and head downstairs.
“Gulliver, darling, all the beautiful clothes that I send you and you still greet me wearing those things,” Fitzy says, motioning to the basketball shorts and tank top I’m wearing.
“I’m going sailing, I’m going to be covered in sweat and salt,” I argue, crossing the room to give my godfather a hug.
“That’s no excuse for looking like a slob. It’s a good thing I bought you something to wear too. Where’s your dad?”
“Golfing, he had an early tee time,” I say, taking the shorts, T-shirt, and lightweight jacket from him and immediately changing. The new outfit he’s bought me is probably what he would classify as nautical chic, but it’s comfortable and lightweight, so I don’t bother to argue. “Izzy’s just taking a shower. She’ll be down in a minute,” I tell him, dropping down into a chair.
“So, tell me about this girl. You’ve never brought anyone to me before,” Fitzy says, lowering himself into the chair across from me and staring at me pointedly.
“She’s my fiancée.”
“She’s what?” Fitzy shrieks.
“She’s my fiancée. We got engaged yesterday,” I tell him, bracing for his reaction.
His laugh sounds like it comes from low in his belly, getting louder as it bubbles up until his eyes are closed and his whole body is vibrating with the sound. “What the hell are you playing at now?” he asks.
“I fell in love and got engaged,” I deadpan.
“So that sweet girl I met yesterday is the Rhodes girl? The one you hate. The one you have been refusing to even entertain the idea of marrying and bitching about constantly for years?” Fitzy cries between giggles.
“No, she’s not.”
