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“Tell me the truth, heartthrob. Did you plan the romantic rainstorm? Is Mother Nature another one of your superfans?” she teased as they clambered toward the villa.
“Mother Nature is about four billion years old. That’s the median age of my fanbase. So, yeah, she was more than happy to accommodate,” he sassed right back.
They were almost home.
He spied the staff entrance that led into the kitchen. He swung open the door. The chef and a few of the housekeepers gasped as they charged inside.
“We’re so sorry to frighten you,” Harper said, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear.
One of the housekeepers handed them each a dishtowel. “Here, here, dry off. And there is a call for you, Signore Paige. There have been many calls.”
What could be so important?
He reached for his cell, but it was gone.
Shit.
“Your phone?” Harper lamented as thunder rumbled and the pound of rain intensified. “It’s back at the dock, isn’t it?”
“Or I dropped it on our way back. With this rain, it appears I’ll be getting a new one. We’re heading back to Colorado tomorrow. I can survive without a phone for a day,” he said and patted dry her cheeks, when one of the butlers entered the kitchen.
“Ah, Signore Paige, a man on the line from your record label. He says it is important that he speak with you. He’s called a few times. I’m so sorry to bother you.”
Jesus, why was the label hounding him?
He glanced at Harper. He wasn’t about to leave her side for a second. “Tell them I’ll call them once I’m back in the States.”
“No, take the call. I’ll check on Aria,” she said, soaking wet and looking even more beautiful.
“Aria fell asleep during the fireworks,” the butler offered. “Ms. Fletcher and Mr. Medina put her to bed. They have also adjourned to their room for the evening.”
“I’d like to check on Aria,” Harper said, wiping the rain from her shoulders. “You should see what the lawyer wants. It could be good news.”
Christ, how did he get so lucky?
Maybe it was a Vegas thing.
Sin City was where Lady Luck could change a person’s life in the blink of an eye, a roll of the dice, or the twirl of a beautiful bonbon dancing in a brown tutu.
A crazy confluence of events had brought them together.
He lifted her left hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Her diamond glittered like the fireworks, and the warmth in his chest penetrated his cold, wet clothing. That ring wasn’t temporary. It wasn’t for show. It wasn’t the object of a double-dog dare. The bands on their fingers weren’t about to expire after sixty days.
Harper was his wife to have and to hold.
Those were the vows.
“I’ll have hot tea sent to your room,” the butler added, then hesitated. “But the call, signore.”
Dammit, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to some suit, but it was his job.
“I’m sorry if they’ve been badgering you. My manager usually takes care of these things. I’ll take the call in my study.”
“Very good. I’ll let the caller know you’ll be with them momentarily,” the man replied.
He pressed another kiss to Harper’s hand, then let go. Instantly, he missed her touch. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”
