Bloody unlikely.
On my phone screen, I watched myself fall in love with her and promise her the world and my soul.
I looked up and over at Lexi, her blond hair curling around her shoulders and down her back, as she gazed out the car window at Las Vegas, the afternoon sun shining on her skin. Her eyes lingered on a homeless man on a sidewalk no one else had seemed to notice, and she touched the door handle like she wanted to jump out to help him.
But we’d already sped on, and she turned her head to try to see what had happened to him.
I watched the video of our wedding again, at my eyes glistening in the candlelight, at the utter lack of guile in my open, searching expression as I smiled down at her.
Damn, I looked . . . happy.
Is that what I looked like when I was happy, parted lips, searching eyes, and a release of the rigidity in my constantly clenched jaw?
I’d never seen it in a picture of myself before.
Maybe a few times during ski season at school when I’d been racing my friends John and Magnus and Ryan at breakneck speeds down the Alps, and we were cherry-cheeked with the cold and laughter as we roughhoused and stuffed crystalline snow down each other’s collars, racing back to the chalet for hot chocolate.
Maybe.
The SUVs slowed to a stop on the street in front of the Sanctuary club, where I emerged into the desiccating heat of the afternoon sun and held my hand out to Lexi, drawing her through the rear seat and out of the door, steadying her with a grasp on her fingertips.
Ueli and the other security staff twitched every time I lingered to hand her out of the car.
Their job was to make sure each of the principals was safe. Allowing a principal to stand uncovered in public and wait for anything, let alone another principal, was less than optimal in terms of operational security. I already knew I was going to have to battle them over changing the rules.
I couldn’t imagine leaving her alone in the car, turning my back, and walking away.
One of the security staff already had the front door to the club open for us, and we trotted over the much less crowded Las Vegas sidewalk and into the chilly air conditioning of the Billionaire Sanctuary private club.
“So before we met, I kept looking at this place,” Lexi said to me as we broke into the cold air inside the dark lobby. “I stood outside the door, but they wouldn’t let me in.”
“Billionaire Sanctuary is a global network of private clubs,” I told her. “It’s by membership.”
“Oh, like a gym.”
“More like a country club. There’s a vetting process. Keeps things exclusive.”
“Exclusive, huh? Sounds snobby.”
Her boundless skepticism amused my own cynical heart.
“Each club is different.” I searched for euphemisms. “Some of them are quite different.”
She looked up at me and asked a perfectly innocent question. “Like how?”
The answer would not have been so innocent. I didn’t want to coarsen her. “Just different.”
“So they’re not all just like this one?”
“Different décor, different amenities.”Quitedifferent amenities for some. “Most Sanctuary clubs are more like this one, focused on social spaces and residences. They generally have hotel rooms, bars, restaurants, and conference rooms. This one has a rooftop pool and a movie theater.”
“Oh, a pool! I wish I had a bathing suit, then.”
“They have swimsuits at the general store on the second floor. Put a few and anything else you want on my room account.”
She crowded close to my arm. “You don’t have to buy me things.”
I wanted to curl her against my side but didn’t. Too many eyes. “I’m your husband,” I said, trying those words on like a new suit and finding the fit oddly close even before tailoring. “It’s my job.”
