MasukFour months later . . .How do you propose to a shrew? Julian had no idea but that was his dilemma. He knew he was asking for a headache for the rest of his days – and at such a young age. But what could he do? He couldn’t live without the harpy. And he would actually go to prison for mass murder if she left him or another man stole her away from him.Julian snorted at the thought. Ridiculous. Who the hell is going to take her from me other than Satan himself? And if he does, he’ll just give her back.For the past week, he had racked his brain on how to propose to Chastity. She wasn’t the hearts and flowers type. She liked nice dinners but romantic ones with violins and harps weren’t her style.He would have consulted with Chelsea on how to approach it, but he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t spill the beans to Chastity. They were twins. So, he went to the one person who usually advised him about things.“Hmm. I know you love her but are you sure?” his father asked.They were at B&B in
Chastity stood soaking wet from the rain in front of Julian. She was surprised to see he was still dressed. It was two-thirty in the morning – Paris time. From what she understood he had been in Paris for a few days now. Perhaps his body hadn’t adjusted to the time change yet. Julian stared at her with wide eyes. “Forgive me.” That’s all she could get out. The January wind and the rain had chilled her to the bone. She was trembling. Julian blinked a few times and then took her arm. He quickly pulled her inside. Julian grabbed her suitcase and carry-on and closed the door. After quickly placing her luggage to the side, he guided her to the couch and sat her down. Then he dashed away without a word. There was a white marble, gas fireplace. A photograph – a family portrait hung above the fireplace mantle. It appeared to be the Beaumonts, extended family included. The carpet was thick and soft under her plain shoes. The furniture was plush.
It took longer than Chastity had wanted to get to Boston Logan International Airport, but she had made it. She had thought the easy part would be getting a ticket to Paris. She had been wrong. JetBlue and Air France had no direct or indirect flights to Paris for the next two days. Chastity had called her father to see if she could use the family jet, but it was down at the Boston airport. When they did a flight check they discovered that one of the propellers needed to be replaced. It would take two days. Chelsea, Derek, Constance, her nieces, and her parents had to stay in Boston until the Dawson jet came for them. So, now, Chastity was at Delta Airlines customer service trying to get a flight.“I’m sorry, sister, but we have no flights available,” the customer service agent said.Chastity had decided to not take her final vows fifteen minutes before the ceremony. Therefore, she was already in her collar, dress, and veil. She had been so flustered when she realized that she couldn’t
Alexander hoped St. Barbara’s Convent had a big chapel for the vow ceremony because there were quite a few of them there to see Chastity take her final vows; Catherine, Cameron, Cameron’s father and stepmother, Constance and her twin girls, Derek, Chelsea, little Davidson, Derek’s sister and mother, Caitlin, Alexander’s father, stepmother, and sister, Ava Bartholomew, who had been missing for six months and was now back in the fold, Ernest, the man Chastity used to date up until a few months ago, George Nelson, a friend of Chelsea’s and Chastity’s, and seven personal friends of Chastity’s, who she had attended Columbia University with. The Beaumonts were outside of the convent with Carlton and Victoria Van Dyke, Chelsea, Derek, who was holding his son, Catherine, Cameron, and Constance and her twin girls. The rest were in their own huddle several feet away. People were walking up the walkway to the building. The ceremony was going to start in fifteen minutes. F
The next morning . . . It was five a.m. Chastity had gotten little sleep. She kept thinking back to New Year’s Day morning when she had woken in Julian’s arms. Chastity had slipped from his hold and quietly picked up her clothes. As she had watched him sleep, a variety of emotions swirled in her head. At the time, she had decided to stay the course. That’s why she had written the letter. The night had surprised her. She couldn’t believe she had let herself – and Julian lose control like that. What was more surprising was she didn’t regret the sexual encounter. Perhaps that was why she didn’t go to confession. Another thing that had surprised her was that Julian had not come after her. He had other times. Then she realized that Julian was done. That he was more than likely angry that she left him a note without a verbal by your leave. He might have also realized that she knew what he had said in French. His confession of love had made her most uncomf
A few days later . . . One minute, Chastity was sleeping comfortably in her quarters at St. Barbara’s Convent. The next minute she’s being jarred awake. Her eyes opened to Julian, who was wearing a parka and a wool cap. Chastity couldn’t help but smile. “I knew you’d come eventually.” “Good, so that means you’re ready to get out of here.” Julian pulled the covers down. “Let’s go. The jet is waiting.” Then he took her lips. Chastity didn’t bother fighting it – not anymore. She wanted to be with him – always. The kiss quickly intensified. They couldn’t help but get reacquainted with each other. Julian laid her back on the bed as he plundered her mouth. Chastity’s body was growing warm, and her vagina was getting moist just from the kiss. She wondered if they had time to make love. Would or if it was best to wait until they got on the jet? Julian’s hand traveled down her chest to her thighs. Apparently, he couldn’t w







