One Weekend in London

9. Sadie

A loud gasp rings out.

“No way! You’re Rhys flipping Kensington!”

I jerk back, tearing myself from Rhys’s hold as if scalded, my chest heaving. To our right, ten feet away, stands a teenage girl, her bedazzled iPhone held aloft, her grin triumphant and slightly smug.

It’s obvious she snapped a photo mid-almost-kiss.

I’m half-tempted to ask her to text me a copy.

Gaze ping-ponging between us, she laughs to herself before settling her focus on me. “Bagging Britain’s hottest billionaire?” She shoots me an exaggerated wink, reminding me of Tasha. These two would be best friends, I swear. “Well done, girl!”

Hang on now. What did she just say?

Shock keeps me silent, heat flooding every inch of my face. Billionaire? Just how rich is Rhys? It’s none of my business, but questions still ricochet in my already spinning head.

In front of me, he mutters something dark about the “bloody British rags” as he takes my hand and firmly tugs me into the elevator, away from prying eyes.

“Mark, handle it. We’ll meet you downstairs.”

Following Rhys’s snapped words, the doors quickly close behind us with a soft whoosh, giving me only a peek at his security approaching the young lady who’d intruded on what I suspect would’ve been one heck of a panty-melting kiss.

A disappointed, anxiety-riddled mess—that’s what I’ve now turned into. Everything is catching up to me at once. The consuming attraction, the unmet need, the almost-kiss, and our unexpected audience. It’s just so much and as hard as I try to stop it, I still spiral.

Rhys notices immediately.

With us now alone, he backs me against the sleek black wall, his big body caging me in. One of his palms cups my jaw, his thumb brushing my burning skin.

“Breathe for me,” he murmurs, stepping in to help stop my chest-splitting panic. “In and out, just like that.” His other hand grips my hip, squeezing slightly. “Focus on me, love. Only me.”

I nod, silently doing as he says.

“I have you, Sadie. You’re here with me, where nothing will ever touch, much less hurt you. I’ll die before I let that happen.” Well then. Is what he just said morbid? Yes. But is it also so sweet? Yes, times two. At least it is to me, further proving I’m likely losing my mind. “You’re safe with me.”

His words work like magic.

They give me the strength I need.

Working to push the unnecessary alarm down, I match my quickened breaths to his, the gentle command and his addicting scent soothing my frazzled nerves in record time.

Ever since I was a little girl, anxiety has been something I’ve struggled with. A beast that rears its ugly head whenever it pleases and usually when I least expect it. And until now, Papaw has always been the one to anchor me, exorcizing the fear and panic I sometimes can’t.

Rhys just changed that.

When the elevator dings, I expect Rhys to step back, giving me space before pulling me out the door. He doesn’t. In fact, he keeps me caged against the wall, his much larger body shielding mine from the outside world.

Seconds, minutes, I’m unsure which, pass. Then, I’m ready. I smile, though shakily. “I’m okay.”

His eyes search mine. “You sure?”

Again, I nod. “I am.”

Despite my answer, he still doesn’t step back as I expect. Instead, he lingers, as if his mind is warring between the need to let me go and the desire to hold me close.

“I’m okay,” I repeat. “Promise.”

Seeming to break free of the mental battle he’s immersed in, he backs away before pulling me into his side, banding an arm around my lower back. Without speaking, he guides me through the lobby, oblivious to the many curious stares aimed our way.

Me though? I don’t miss a single one. It’s like I’m back in Garrison all over again. Except now, being watched while tucked into Rhys’s side doesn’t bother me.

At all.

The exit is in sight, just thirty feet away, when a petite older woman in a smart blazer approaches, a genuine smile gracing her face. “Mr. Kensington, Ms. Winslow’s charges were processed per your request. And a team is enroute to pack her belongings for the penthouse.”

Penthouse? Now hold on.

“Excellent. Thank you, Caroline.”

Caroline. The name suits her, I decide, studying the woman who reminds me so much of my beloved mamaw. Polished and professional, but with a glimmer of warmth and kindness that instantly sets me at ease.

Her words, though, they jolt me.

As if I’ve run smack-dab into an electric fence.

“Pack my belongings? But I didn’t...”

Dropping his arm, Rhys turns to face me fully, his expression implacable. Resolute. Clearly, whatever he’s about to say, he fully expects me to fall in line with.

We’ll just see about that.

“I had Caroline, my assistant, settle your account with my credit card and check you out. Within the hour, you’ll be moved into my penthouse, in a room of your choosing. Though I admit, I selfishly hope you choose mine.”

He smirks as my mouth falls open, undoubtedly wide enough for a semi to drive right in. I fight for the words to speak, but I’m struck dumber than a rock, completely aghast. Reading my racing mind, Rhys quickly continues.

“It’s for your safety. I need you close, where I can ensure your protection and well-being.” His jaw clenches, his eyes flashing with something fierce and, dare I say, feral. “And I’ll be damned if I let that worthless wanker back in the States finance another moment of your life. Every charge you’ve incurred during your stay has been handled by me; he’ll be none the wiser of your trip.” Does he know Maxwell is ignorant to my use of his American Express on my little revenge vacation? If so, he doesn’t directly say. “Any expenses you have are now mine to handle—not his.”

For a beat, I simply stare up at him.

I’ve been rendered speechless a few times in my twenty-four years—mostly because of something dumb one of my male cousins has done—but never over a man treating me the way he currently is.

The way he seems to cherish me, even though we’ve just met, the connection binding us having yet to be fully explored, steals my breath and swells my heart to near bursting.

It’s now I realize Rhys makes me feel safe.

Not to mention truly cherished.

Belatedly, I realize Caroline is watching our exchange intently, a tiny smile playing on her lips. When I meet her astute gaze, she gives me the subtlest of nods.

“I see it now,” she murmurs, almost to herself. Then, with a parting, growing smile and small wave, she’s gone, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.

I don’t have time to ponder her remark before Rhys guides me through the exit, me at his side, his arm once more wrapping tightly around me.

With a few short commands snapped into his phone—When did he pull that out?—he sends Mark—How did he get down here so fast?—the man I quickly learn is the head of his security team, to the idling SUV parked curbside, directly behind his fancy-looking black sports car.

He silently opens the passenger door for me and helps me slide onto the buttery leather seat. To my surprise and belly-flipping satisfaction, he leans in, his strong arm brushing against my chest as he buckles me in.

It’s such a sweet gesture.

Maxwell would’ve never...

Don’t think about that idiot, I tell myself as I push unwanted memories to the back of my mind, precisely where they belong. He isn’t worth a lick of salt, much less your...

My thoughts scatter when Rhys kisses my forehead. A puddle of goo—I nearly dissolve right into one. He pulls back, our eyes meeting and locking.

“Me helping you conquer the final items on your holiday checklist,” he says quietly, that addicting rumble of his deep voice working to make my knees go all shaky again, “is only the beginning, Sadie.”

Pulling my phone from his pocket, he gently slips it in my hand as he watches me from under thick, sooty lashes, nearly making me squirm.

“Now that I have you here, exactly where I know you were meant to always be, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

It makes little sense, but his words give me something I long ago lost—hope.

As if knowing the effect he has on me, he winks before backing out of the car and rounding the hood. Two inhales. That’s all I take before he’s climbed into the driver’s seat, his nearness more potent than any shot of Papaw’s prized white lightning I’ve ever taken.

Reaching across the center console, he takes my hand in his.

When our eyes meet again, I know one thing for sure—I’m officially in over my head with this man, close to drowning in him entirely.

And let me tell you...

I’ve never wanted to sink so badly in all my life.