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Even when Will wore his oldest, most faded pair of jeans and a plain black T-shirt, people reacted to him as if they knew he was wealthy. Like they could smell his money. It was the weirdest thing.
I didn’t like it, nor did I feel comfortable with every pair of eyes on Will, me, or the man two steps behind us. But Will remained unaffected at the registration desk. He spoke and acted efficiently, professionally and articulate. In between his dealings, he’d shoot me a quick glance and smile.
It made me feel adored.
Cherished.
That single word had never been used to describe the way I felt with a man.Cherished. It was more than that, really. Will respected me. He listened to my verbose ramblings and remembered minor details of my day, and stories of my past. And not once was there a hint of boredom in his eyes.
“How are you beautiful?” He took my hand and led me to the elevator.
“Wonderful.” The doors opened and we stepped in, and so did the chauffeur with our luggage.Odd. Wasn’t carrying our bags up to the room the bellhop’s job? “Will…” I swooped my eyes to the man.
Will pressed his lips to my ear. His soft, warm breath sent tingles through my body. “Don’t worry about him,” he whispered, cupping my face.
Done.
Nothing or no one would ruin our holiday.
