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“Stunned. That’s how I want you for the next two weeks.”
“But we don’t—”
Thorne’s look cut his words off. The man wasn’t taking no for an answer. They were taking a limo into the city.
The driver opened the door, and Thorne gestured for Riley to take a seat first. Thorne slid onto the seat next to him and opened a cabinet which held an array of beverages. “Whiskey? Or is this a champagne occasion?”
“Whiskey. I need something bracing.”
Thorne leaned in close. “Am I too much for you?”
Riley smiled. “Not a chance.”
The driver made his way through Queens, and Riley held Thorne’s hand as he stared out the window, smiling nonstop at the Christmas lights and the enormity of the city. There was so much to take in.
As they headed across the Queensboro Bridge, he leaned closer to the window to take in the view down the river. “I’m already in love.”
Thorne kissed him behind his ear. “I knew you would be.”
“You’re in full seduction mode tonight.”
Thorne laughed, the sound vibrating along Riley’s neck. “You love it.”
“I do. I love all of it. I can’t wait to go ice skating and see the tree at Rockefeller Center and look in all the decorated shops and—”
“Ice skating?”
“Thorne, you can’t come to New York at Christmas and not go skating.”
“I assure you, I have.”
“Well, you won’t this year.”
Once they entered Manhattan, Thorne said, “You’ll be able to see the lights in Central Park once we make it a few more blocks.”
When the lights came into view, Riley had to suppress an actual fucking squee. “It’s amazing. Just like I imagined.”
“They do know how to do Christmas here.”
After inching through traffic, the driver finally pulled up in front of a building. “Is this where we’re staying? Right here by the park?”
“Yes.”
Riley tried to see a name, but he couldn’t. “What hotel is this?”
“The Ritz,” Thorne replied in the same tone Riley would’ve used to say the Holiday Inn.
“Really?” Riley stared at him. This was all too much, a good kind of too much, but still.
“Yes. And that’s just the look I was going for.”
A porter began unloading their luggage. Thorne laid a hand against Riley’s lower back and ushered him through the doors being held for them by two uniformed men, who looked like they’d stepped right off a movie set.
A man in a very nice suit rushed toward them. “Mr. Shipton, Mr. Dashwood, if you’re ready, I’d be happy to show you to your suite.”
“Thank you,” Thorne said.
They rode the elevator and then walked down a hall with one of the softest carpets Riley had ever stepped on.
The man opened the door and then handed Thorne two key cards. “I hope the room is to your liking, sir. The bedroom and master bath are through here.” He gestured to a set of double doors on the right. “This door leads to the half bath.” He pointed to a door that opened off the entryway. “And your kitchen and dining area are to the left.”
Riley realized his mouth was literally hanging open. He closed it, not wanting to look like a complete idiot. He’d been in plenty of nice hotels, but none of them quite measured up to this. The living area was lined with tall windows that looked out onto Central Park, where fairy lights sparkled. A small, lighted tree had been placed on a side table, and there were two poinsettias on another table. He was definitely in a Christmas fairy tale.
***
Thorne glanced around the suite. The view was as spectacular as he’d hoped for, and Riley’s look of wonder told him that he’d made a good choice. As Thorne had requested, wine had been left for them as well as a cheese board and a box of truffles. “Yes, this will do nicely. Thank you.”
The porter arrived with their luggage as the desk clerk was leaving. After he unloaded it from the cart, Thorne tipped him and he exited. When the door clicked shut Riley walked to the windows and gazed out on the sparkling city. “Is this place real?”
Thorne smiled at him, enjoying how excitement had him practically vibrating. “Very much so.”
“This suite is bigger than your apartment.”
Thorne laughed. “I assure you it’s not, although considering the size of most Manhattan apartments, it is enormous.”
Riley looked away from the window as if giving up the view was painful. He surveyed the rest of the suite. “Okay, so it’s not quite as big, but still. It’s…wow.”
“I refused to book us anywhere less than perfect. Eloping deserves the best.”
Riley frowned. “It’s not really eloping if we brought friends, right?”
Thorne shook his head. “Especially not when I even told my parents.”
“Do we know yet if they’re really coming?”
“Kathryn still swears they will, but I think they’ll find a last-minute excuse. Are you hungry?” Thorne asked, gesturing toward the food. Dinner had been a hurried affair in the Atlanta airport, and he’d grumbled the whole time about the lines and lousy service.
