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Taking the private elevator to my suite, I punch the floor number more times than completely necessary.
“Yeah?”
“Isn’t that your suite number?”
I glance down at her. “Yes.”
She rolls her lips. “I should probably…”
“If you want me to say I’ll take the couch, forget about it. I’ll take the bed, with you in it.”
Maybe she needs some space… maybe I’m being an ass?
“That is, uh, kinda sweet.”
I chuckle. “It’s not.”
“You’re right, it’s not, but I’m used to you.”
I smile to myself. She’s starting to understand, I think. And I need her to.
The sooner she comprehends she’s mine and I’m hers, the easier things will be.
Now she’s here, in my casino, in my suite, I’m never gonna let her go.
17
SAGE
Everything that surroundsme is complete opulence.
Everything.
From the plush carpet, to the chandelier that hangs ridiculously low in the middle of the massive lounge room, to the expansive chef’s kitchen with marble benchtops.
The view of the harbor and the city is magnificent. The sweeping patio could hold thirty people easily, along with a very large jacuzzi.
You could live in this apartment and never leave, I’m sure of it.
“Wow,” I say. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Each brother has a Presidential suite on the Penthouse floor. And I can see that no expense was spared.
“Here,” Fynn says, helping me to the couch. “Take a seat. Did you want something to eat? I’ll call up for room service.”
“Maybe after I’ve washed up.”
He stands in front of me with his sleeves rolled up, looking down at me as I wince, knowing I did get hurt and I don’t want him to realize just how much because he’ll go nuclear.
“I’ll run you a bath.” He disappears through the apartment before I can argue. Not that I would, a hot bath sounds like exactly what I need.
God knows how large this place is, but I’m impressed. Valentina did an amazing job.
A few moments later, he comes back, wiping his hands on a hand towel.
“I’ll get you a hot drink.”
“Fynn,” I say as he turns to look back at me, halfway to the kitchen. “You don’t have to fuss.”
