“It’s okay, Nat,” someone says over my shoulder. Turning, I watch Henley’s husband, Conner approach the desk. “You can give her one of our rooms.” Looking at me, he flashes me a dazzling smile. “We blocked out a whole floor so we could keep the kids close while Cari and Patrick squeeze the billionaires.” His smile deepens enough to set off a pair of ridiculously sexy dimples—probably because he knows I’m one of the billionaireshis cousin and his wife are currently squeezing. “If you don’t mind sharing a floor with a bunch of rowdy Gilroys, we’d be happy to put you up for the night.”
Dumbstruck for a few moments because while I know Henley enough to have been invited to their wedding, I don’t know this man at all, I finally find enough sense to shake my head. “No,” I tell him, even though refusing his offer is the last thing I want to do. “I couldn’t impose on your fam?—”
“Yes you can.” Flashing me those dimples again, Conner turns to look at the equally dazzled desk clerk. “Give her room 1217, Nat.”
Like me, for a moment, Nat doesn’t seem to know what to do. “1217?” Snapping out of it, she shakes her head. “You want me to give her room 1217?” Looking down, she gives her computer screen a frown. “Are you?—”
“That’s what I said,” Conner says, giving her another smile. “1217.”
“Oh… okay.” Giving him a quick, flustered smile, the poor desk clerk hurries through the motions of scanning a keycard before handing it to me. “Here you go, Ms. Blackwell. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.” Taking the key, I turn toward the man still standing at the counter beside me. “And thank you—this was very generous of you. I appreciate it. I don’t think?—”
“You could stand the plane ride home with your shitty cousin?” he finishes for me before I have a chance. Giving me a lopsided grin, Conner shakes his head. “Don’t thank me—thank my wife. She’s the brains of this outfit. I just do what I’m told.”
Remembering the brief conversation I had with Henley about Paige, I feel my smile flatten against my mouth. “Well, tell her I said thank you too.” Flashing the keycard at him, I start to back away from the counter. “Good night.”
Giving me a low watt smile of his own, Conner moves torejoin his friends before he thinks better of it and turns back around. “You know… Hen and I—we almost didn’t happen.” Shaking his head, he frowns at me like he’s not completely sure of what he’s saying or even why he’s saying it. “For the longest time, I was sure we never would. Her mother did a number on her—spent her whole life convincing her that there was nothing about her that I could love… she was wrong. I love every infuriatingly fucked-up part of that woman, but no matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, I couldn’t convince her. Not until she finally realized that I wasn’t the one who was lying to her. That I’d been the one telling her the truth, all along.”
“Why?” It’s none of my business. None of this is my business. I barely know Henley and I don’t know her husband at all, but for some reason, I ask anyway. “What is it about her that you love so much?” For me, it’s an easy answer. Henley Gilroy is beautiful and smart. Loyal and fierce, but even though I’m sure those must be his reasons, that’s not what he says.
“Because she’s real.” He says it like he knows it sounds crazy. Like he knows I’ll never understand. “Because I feel real when I’m with her. Because she’s the only puzzle I’ve never been able to solve. Because she has freckles between her toes and nice penmanship.” Laughing, he shakes his head. “I could stand here all night and most of tomorrow, running down the list of reasons why I love my wife, but all you need to know is that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.Nothing. I’ve done things that’ve made me hate myself, just for the chance to breathe the same air as her and I’d burn this city to the fucking ground, just to make her smile.”
“I don’t understand.” Shaking my head, I look over his shoulder, at the trio of people waiting for him. “Wait…” Remembering the rest of my conversation with Henley, I re-aim my gaze in his direction, my heart knocking against my ribcage, the uneven rhythm of it making me a little dizzy. Itmakes no sense. Absolutely none whatsoever. “Was it you? Are you the one who?—”
Tilting his head a little, Conner cuts me off with a quick smile. “Night, Millie.”
Turning away from me without giving me a chance to say anything else, Conner Gilroy walks away to rejoin his friends, leaving me to find my way up to my room, on my own.
FIFTY-THREE
It took me a few seconds to snap out of it.
To realize this was it. That I was never going to get another chance. That once she was gone—once I let Millie get away—she was gone forever.
After tonight, I’ll never be in the same room with her again. Not unless I go full-blown stalker.
Going after her, I was prepared to bide my time. The event wasn’t even half over. All I had to do was wait for my next opening and this time, keep my goddamned hands to myself. The next time Millie was alone, I’d try again. Shit, I was prepared to end the night in handcuffs if that’s what it took to make her listen.
I stepped back into the deserted ballroom, justin time to watch Millie hustle her way through the exit, on her way to the elevator. She wasn’t rejoining Curt and the rest of the Billionaire’s Club.
She was leaving.
Fuck.
I followed her, even though I knew I had no real hope of catching her. Stood a few yards away and watched her frantically slap at the button panel in the elevator until the doors slid closed between us because the look on her face told me it was over. I’d fucked up for the last time. That Millie’s completely done and nothing I have to say would make a difference.
So, drunk.
Drunk became my new plan.
So drunk I couldn’t see straight.
So drunk I hopefully won’t be able to carry out all the crazy illegal shit that’s currently running through my head.
Like kidnapping.
That’s what I’m thinking about—kidnapping. I’m sitting in the hotel bar, contemplating the finer points of kidnapping American royalty while charging doubles to my room, two-by-two, like I’m Noah’s fucking Arc.
