Page 114 of My Real Love Affair

“Smile, baby girl. Paparazzi love redemption arcs.”

She lifted her chin, shoulders back, and we walked through the gauntlet with smiles on our faces. Outside, the car I orderedwas waiting at the curb. I opened the rear door and helped Melody in first. I slid in beside her and took her hand.

She leaned into my shoulder. “So we return to real life now, huh?”

“For a couple hours. Then I hijack you again.”

“Kidnapping. Romantic.”

“Trust me, you’re going to enjoy this kidnapping.”

The rain had softened. Gray light flickered through the windshield. Twenty minutes later we pulled up to her brownstone. The driver double-parked, hazards blinking.

I kissed the tip of her nose. “Go. Change. Pack your cutest sneakers.”

She arched a brow. “Sneakers? We’re fleeing?”

“Call it a strategic retreat.” I brushed a thumb across her lower lip, memorizing the exact shade of swollen pink. “Few hours. Text when you’re ready, yes?”

She nodded, slipped out, then leaned back in through the open door. “One condition.”

“Name it.”

“Bring coffee. The emergency-grade stuff.”

I smiled. “Your wish is my command.”

The driver took me to the hotel. I rode the elevator up, unable to stop grinning. I couldn’t wait to see Melody in a bikini. Seeing her naked was hot, but I liked bikinis. It was like unwrapping a gift.

The doors opened, and the second I stepped out, I felt the chill. I looked up and spotted Cash. In my penthouse.

I would be having a conversation with the hotel security.

His expression was thunderous, the picture of barely contained Bancroft fury. He had probably been standing there for an hour, working himself into a self-righteous rage about my behavior at the gala.

“Go away, Cash,” I said. “Go bother someone who actually cares about your opinion.”

“We need to talk.”

“No, we really don’t.” I kicked off my shoes and dropped my wallet and keys on the entry table. Of course he followed. Cash never could take a hint.

“You can’t just ignore this, Austin.”

“Watch me.” I headed straight for my bedroom and pulled out a duffel bag, starting to throw clothes into it. Swim trunks. T-shirts. Light pants. Sunscreen. The essentials for a week in paradise.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Packing. It’s this thing people do when they’re going somewhere.”

Cash’s jaw tightened. “Austin, stop for one second and talk to me.”

“I’m not interested in hearing your thoughts about anything,” I said. “And we both know you don’t actually want to talk to me. You want to lecture me. You want to scold me like I’m a child and threaten to take away all my toys.”

“What is the deal with her?” He snapped and stalked forward.

I knew who he was talking about but chose to pretend I didn’t. “Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. Melody. What’s going on there? You show up to a gala with her on your arm, make a spectacle of yourselves, and then what? You think that’s going to convince Dad and me that this is real?”