Suzette dressed with care, smoothing down the folds of her pale blue lacy maxi dress, the subtle gold thread catching the soft summer light streaming through the bedroom windows. Her original choice had been a white shoestring-strap dress, but Justin’s gift had changed that plan. She’d admired the crystal pendant and earrings in the kiosk for weeks, though they’d always lived firmly in the one-day category of her budget.
She leaned closer to the mirror, hooked the earrings into place, and stepped back to survey the effect. The stones picked up the exact shade of her eyes — something Justin had pointed out — and the deep halter neckline formed the perfect frame for the aquamarine where it rested in the curve between her breasts.She wore no bra today; she wasn’t in the mood for the tight confines of the monstrosity that usually paired with the dress.
Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower, so she twisted it loosely and secured it at the base of her neck with a simple claw clip. A second sweep of mascara, a touch of gloss, a whisper of perfume before stepping into soft leather flats trimmed in delicate blue beads.
She caught her reflection and felt a flutter of nerves rise in her chest. Justin had called her beautiful — and for the first time in her life, she actually felt it. Maybe that was what a night of passionate lovemaking did to a woman. Lit something warm and glowing deep inside her.
And a tiny, unexpected part of her thought that if she were photographed besideJK Kenzietoday … at least she looked her best.
Early-bird hotel guests were already gathered in the boma, nibbling at the continental spread while a skeleton crew kept the coffee flowing. At eleven, everyone would move up to the patio for the main Christmas meal.
Suzette moved among them for several minutes, offering warm wishes and easy smiles, crouching to admire the little driftwood-carved doll, its dress painted in bright African colors, which a little girl proudly held up to her. With everyone content in the warm, laid-back holiday mood, she slipped toward the kitchen where any hint of laid-back calm vanished. Her team was already in full prep mode for the buffet.
Unlike the previous night’s dinner reserved for in-house guests only, the luncheon drew locals as well, swelling their numbers from thirty-four to more than seventy. Not much by big-hotel standards, perhaps, but for a small boutique establishment it meant all hands on deck.
And that’s where she found him — stationed behind the prep table, sleeves rolled up, quietly chopping fruit as though he belonged there.
Just another pair of hands in an apron and hairnet, laughing and chatting with the staff as if he’d always belonged there.
It was an almost comically incongruous sight.
The billionaire movie star.
The global heartthrob.
Happily slicing papaya.
A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it — quiet, disbelieving, fond.
He looked up, his eyes brightening the moment they landed on her. And then, as his gaze swept over her, it sharpened into something hotter, hungrier. And just like that, the amusement inside her faltered, collapsing into something heavier. Something that curled low in her stomach and refused to ease. Fear.
He made it far too easy to imagine a tomorrow with him.
What if that heat — that tenderness, that love — faded?
What if—
“Ai, MiesSuzette. Daai man … hy’s dolverlief op jou.”
She glanced at Alma. The woman was one of her very first hires when she’d started working at the hotel and, over the years, had become her right-hand woman. Suzette considered her a friend, but no matter how many times she’d begged the woman to drop theMiestitle, Alma refused.
“I know,” she murmured.
After last night there was no doubt Justin was in love with her. But—
“Uh-uh.” Alma narrowed her eyes. “You are not going to mess this up, Suzette Bosch. If anyone deserves to be swept off their feet, it’s you. You grab hold of that man, and you do not let go.”
Alma spun around, snatched up a crate filled with white cloth serviettes folded into neat cone shapes with tiny white and blue Christmas hats perched on top, and shoved it into Suzette’s hands.
“Keep yourself busy before that mind of yours comes up with reasons to sabotage this,” she ordered, then turned Suzette around and gave her a firm push toward the restaurant. “Chop-chop.”
*
Justin watched the exchange between Suzette and Alma with a sinking feeling. It wasn’t hard to discern the worry tightening Suzette’s expression. She’d woken subdued, and while their early-morning lovemaking had been deeply satisfying, there had been an undercurrent to it — a tenderness edged with something he could only call poignancy.
There had been shadows in her eyes.
And he wasn’t talking from a lack of sleep.
