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He didn’t rise to my bait, instead nodded to the bank of elevators. “This way, Miss Erin.”
I didn’t mention his incorrect use of my name. Instead, I walked over to the elevator and pushed the call button. “Which floor?” I asked as we stepped into the car.
Ray took a card out of his pocket and swiped the reader. “The penthouse.”
The elevator started moving, and I watched the numbers climb like I’d never seen numbers go so high, but there were only 18 floors plus PH—which I assumed meant penthouse. “Of course. He’s rich. That makes sense.” I murmured the words almost to myself, but Ray nodded ever so slightly.
The inner nervousness I’d been ignoring was now bubbling just beneath the surface. It wasn’t that I was meeting my husband for the first time in years. It was that I was seeingHenrykagain after all this time. And it was both exciting and terrifying.
I wondered if he would recognize me or if I would recognize him. We’d been so young back then. Had that gorgeous, serious little boy, grown into an equally serious, and also gorgeous man?
I took out my phone and shot Bree another message. It calmed me to put my troubles into words.
In the hotel elevator. Gonna meet Henryk in a minute.
The doors opened and I managed to see Bree’s response before I disembarked.
If he’s really, really rich, find out if he has a brother. Younger or older, I’m not picky.
My laugh died on my lips as I stepped out of the elevator and right into the largest, grandest apartment I’d ever seen. The ceilings were at least twenty feet high and there was a marble foyer. Columns. Floor-to-ceiling windows with long, billowing curtains. This place was opulent and white. So much white. I looked around, smiling, ready to run in and jump on the sofa in what I thought was my hotel room. I laughed, delighted by Henryk’s choice of my accommodations.
And that was how I saw Henryk again for the first time. Giggling like a schoolgirl with my phone clutched in my hand.
Holy hell.
No. Holy shit.
No. Holy fuck.
My jaw dropped. He wasn’t just gorgeous, he wasstunning. The long hair was gone, cut closer these days, but the eyes were still so blue I could see them from across the room. I could see them while he was backlit by the fire he was standing in front of. They were the sky after the storm. His jaw was wide his legs long, his shoulders broad. But there was no doubt this was the same boy I’d “married” back on that playground in DC. And he was staring at me.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, then covered my mouth with my fingertips. “This is so surreal.”
Henryk walked forward, no sign of a smile or a welcome, but his eyes blazed hot and intense.
He inclined his head with what I assumed was supposed to be a greeting, but there was still no smile. “Erin. So good of you to come all this way.”
He was like one of those chocolate eggs, so fragile and yummy and perfect. Perfectly perfect.
I rushed forward and hugged him, squeezing like we were old friends. And maybe we were. We were married after all, and I’d flown across an ocean and part of Europe to get here. If I wasn’t a friend or some form of a friend, I wouldn’t have come.
But this was such a strange moment, and with the hug, I took it to a whole other level. But when was I ever going to get to hug my pretend husband again?
It took a good ten seconds, ten awkward seconds by the way, before he patted my back just a little, before putting his arms down and straightening his body.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I said. I sounded formal, but maybe because we hadn’t said hello. We hadn’t small talked or chit chatted and there wasn’t a kind look between us. So with the exception of my hug, this was wholly a formal moment.
When I stepped away, he straightened even more, the same as Ray had. Were all these guys military trained?
“We’re just waiting on the other two, and once they’re here, we’ll proceed.” Henryk held out his hand, and I looked at it for a second. I didn’t know what he wanted or what he was doing, but I laid mine in his and absorbed the tingles into my skin. Or maybe they started there, I didn’t know. But they were wholly enjoyable. Even though I had no idea where he was taking me.
But he led me to gorgeous leather couches. “Please, sit. Do you need anything after your flight? A beverage? Something to eat?”
I sat down and ran my hands over the leather. It was like butter, smooth and cool. I looked up at him and smiled. “No. I’m fine, thank you.”
A phone rang and Henryk tilted his head and pulled his lower lip between his teeth. “Excuse me.” He headed over to the phone to pick it up.
Henryk’s side of the conversation was in German, the primary language of Lichtenstein, according to Google.
