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Lindy glances down at her ring. “Thank you.”
Our first congratulations on our engagement. It’s going to take a minute to get used to this.
“Yes, it’s very recent,” I say. “Thank you.”
Naomi continues. “I’ve worked here for five years, and I must say, I’ve never seen that look in Mr. Bachman’s eyes before, the one he had in the lobby when he looked at you.” She turns over her shoulder, giving Lindy what seems like a pointed woman-to-woman look.
“Oh… um… okay.” Lindy’s rosy blush goes beet red. A look of pleasure covers her face as she tries to hide a smile.
The elevator dings, ending the conversation about my past transgressions. Saved by the bell. No more inquiries about my prior sexual escapades. Thank God. I haven’t exactly been a monk.
“Our tour ends here.” Naomi stands in front of sleek black double doors. “Lindy, Mr. Bachman has spoken to Frederic, the on-site hair salon, to book you an appointment for this evening. We also have a personal assistant who can shop for you with one of our partners, Bergdorf Goodman. Anything you need, we will get it for you.”
“Wow. Oh my gosh… thanks so much.” Lindy looks from Naomi to me. “Both of you.”
“Of course. It’s our pleasure.” Naomi goes to shake hands with Lindy, but Lindy surprises her with a big hug instead. Naomi hugs her back, clearly as enamored with her as I am. Naomi opens the doors to the penthouse with a grand flourish. “I’ll leave you two to get settled.”
She leaves us, stepping back into the elevator.
We step inside and Lindy gives an audible gasp. The place really is breathtaking. The white walls rise about sixteen feet, then the ceilings angle up and in for the next ten feet, large windows set inside the rectangular peak. Sunlight pours down into the massive living room.
There’s a plush tawny-and-white rug, a shiny black grand piano, a massive white stone fireplace with modern, sleek lines. Taupe curtains hang floor to ceiling from the large windows overlooking the 843 acres of beauty that is Central Park.
Engaged or not, I’ll be giving my fiancée her own room rather than taking advantage of her. She needs rest after what we’ve been through with my father. Noble of me, I know. My cock twitches at the thought of having her so near.
Down, boy.
I make her pick her room first.
She chooses a smaller one that overlooks the park, the walls and bedding in soft grays and whites.
There’s a knock at the door. A young bellhop wearing the red sweater of the hotel staff, his hand on a gold, wheeled cart that holds our luggage. I show him where to put our suitcases. Lindy has her own set of luggage—a Louis Vuitton trunk as well as some smaller bags, all ordered by Sasha—filled to the brim with everything we bought her during her stay at the Parrish.
When I notice the young man’s gaze lingers a little too long on Lindy, I grab the last of her suitcases from his hand. “We’re done here. You can go.”
I stand by the door to her room, watching as she opens the lid to the trunk. “Will you be alright here while I go see my dad at the hospital?”
She turns over her shoulder, smiling. “Yes, go. Please. I’ll get us all unpacked and settled.”
“I can do it when I get back,” I offer.
“No. I insist. It’s the least I can do for all of this.” She waves a hand through the air. “Just tell me what you need unpacked for tonight.” The ring sparkles on her finger as she gestures.
“Dinner tonight?” I ask.
She takes a moment with her reply. I almost get nervous waiting, like a sixteen-year-old asking a girl out.
Finally, she finishes what she’s doing and looks up at me.
“Of course. I would love that.”
I want to take her in my arms. I want to kiss her as I leave. Instead, I hover by the door, staring at her as she moves around the place, carefully placing a few of her things in the drawers of the dresser.
God, she’s beautiful.
I hate how much I love the fact she wears my ring. I’m like a kid writing his name on a pretty new toy. Unwilling to share with others.
Mine.
