One Weekend in London

10. Rhys

I’d bea right fool to muck this up.

The inarguable truth repeats in the back of my mind as Sadie and I approach the London Eye, side by side, my hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

Twenty paces behind, Mark follows, his sharp focus honed in on queued-up patrons we pass, some of them snapping pictures, others whispering as their attention bounces between my blue-eyed belle and myself.

I pay them no mind.

Just as, while I’m busy drinking in the sight of the beauty at my side—most notably the bewitching upturn of her pink, glossed lips—I almost miss the widening of the VIP attendant’s eyes when he spots our approach.

Likely knowing one wrong move in my direction could cost him his job, thanks to my celebrity status—a privilege I don’t often wield—and the substantial cash I’ve paid to have our private ride go as I please, sweat beads on his bushy, unkept brow.

Visibly swallowing, he unhooks a velvet rope and ushers us through, away from the growing crowd, before quickly securing it back in place.

“Your private capsule is ready, Mr. Kensington, complete with the items and refreshments delivered on your behalf as requested.”

A slight nod is my only acknowledgement.

Sadie has my sole focus.

We step into the opulent capsule where a gleaming ice bucket cradling a bottle of Krug Clos d’Ambonnay sits next to a tray of chocolate-covered fruit and her sparkling eyes widen, pulling a grin from me, a rarity that’s becoming much less rare thanks to her.

Fresh rose petals, hundreds of them by my estimate, in shades of crimson and ivory, litter the wooden floor and hard benches I arranged to be covered with soft cushions.

The romantic gesture is simple. Basic. And for a woman like her, not nearly enough. Nothing less than the moon and stars could ever suffice.

She, however, seems to think differently.

“For the love of sweet tea and hush puppies.” I chuckle while she looks around, turning in place as she shakes her head, almost as if trying to rouse herself from a dream. “I knew you were fancy and all, but goodness gracious. Chocolate-dipped bananas and strawberries? You sure know the way to a girl’s heart.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, one hand going to her hip. “Shoot, if you’d thrown in a cheese plate, I might’ve just had to marry you on the spot.”

She’s being cheeky—still, duly noted.

She turns to look up at me, and I tuck a stray lock of hair behind her pierced ear. The small, teardrop earrings she’s wearing today match her eyes—in both sparkle and hue. I need to buy her more of the same, in every shape and size she wishes.

Blue diamonds, preferably.

“Give me the chance, love, and I’ll show you a world beyond your wildest fantasies. Anything your heart desires, I’ll move heaven and earth to make it yours.”

She smirks, the playfulness of hers that I’ve quickly grown fond of—more like grown addicted to—making an appearance. “Is that what you say to all the girls?”

My answer is quick. Razor sharp. “No.”

Understandably distrusting, she searches my face for any telltale sign of a lie. She won’t find one. I’ve never spent time wooing another woman, much less feeding her false lines. I’ve been too busy biding my time in empire-building solitude, waiting for the one my soul would immediately recognise as mine.

And now, she’s standing right in front of me.

My beautiful girl with a broken heart I intend to mend—one fractured piece at a time—no matter how bloody long it takes.

“Well then, I’d be careful if I were you, Rhys.” If possible, her smile grows, reaching her eyes. “Because if you keep it up, I might start to think you’re trying to charm my panties right off.”

“Maybe I am,” I counter, holding her steadfast gaze. “One thing you should know about me is I don’t faff about. When I see something I want—something I know is meant to be mine—I go after it with everything I have.”

“Is that so?” The playful glint in her stare softens as she shifts her weight from one foot to the next. “And you know I’m meant to be yours? Is that it?”

“With every cell in my body.”

I pinch her chin, keeping her attention focused on me. I can see the wheels in her head spinning as doubt wars to take root in her broken heart, threatening to destroy the future I know we can have.

But bollocks to that.

“It doesn’t matter that we’ve just met or that we’ve only just begun to get to know each other. The only thing that does matter is when you walked into The Opulence, my long-since dead heart jolted back to life after having stopped the day I buried my mum ten years ago.”

Her smile falls, sympathy taking its place.

It’s not what I was aiming for.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, wrapping a warm hand around my wrist. “I may not have met her, but I know without a doubt your mama sure was special. Beautiful and kind-hearted. Patient and caring too. She had to be all those things plus more to raise someone as amazing as I’m discovering you to be.”

Bloody hell.

Her words hit me right in the chest, an undisputable bullseye, nearly knocking me off my feet. I try to speak, but my tongue’s frozen, stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’d like it very much if you told me all about her.”

Throat tightening, I dip my chin.

“Now before I get all worked up and start crying, messing up my mascara, and making me resemble a not-so-cute trash panda…” She laughs and releases my wrist, then splays her hand on my chest. “You said you’d move heaven and earth to give me whatever my heart desires; therefore, I’ve got a question.”

Quirking a brow, she playfully looks me up and down before continuing, the heaviness of the last few seconds no more. “What if I wait until the day’s over and night falls, bringing with it a blanket of twinkling stars, then ask for the moon?”

I don’t speak as I remove her hand from my chest, then spin her around and walk her to the front of the capsule just in time for it to start rising. Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I nuzzle her shoulder as she gasps, taking in the city’s growing view.

“Easy answer. I’d find a way to lasso it and drag it down to Earth, where I’d hang it ’round your pretty little neck.”

She leans back into me, her body softening against mine. “Rhys…”

“I’m right here.” I tighten my hold and place a kiss on her cheek, where my lips linger, taking in and memorizing the taste of her sweetness. “And if you’ll allow it, I always will be.”

Silence fills the capsule.

Minutes pass before Sadie finally speaks.

“My mamaw always dreamed of seeing London, you know.” I don’t miss the wistful expression that crosses her gorgeous face, reflecting in the capsule’s glass, the perfect mirror. “When I was little, we used to pore over travel books and magazines together, planning all the things we’d do.”

I hug her tighter, needing her to know I have her. That she’s safe—mentally and physically—when in my arms. “Tell me about her.”

She nods and wipes a tear away.

“Like Papaw, she was my rock.” Speaking quietly, her voice shakes with reverence. “As a kid, I was wild, never able to sit still or stop talking, much less follow directions. But she never minded. She’d even let my mini-tornado self help in the kitchen before supper, despite me making a mess every last time.”

She smiles at the memory, her eyes distant, as if she’s reliving those precious moments. “On warm summer nights, we’d sit out on the porch swing, sipping sweet tea and watching the fireflies dance in the yard. I’d listen long after the sun had set as she told me stories about growing up in Tennessee. About the adventures she’d had and the dreams she still hoped to f-fulfil.”

Her voice catches; my hold stays steady.

“She always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. One day, when I came home from school crying because some mean girl had made fun of me for whatever reason, she’d pulled me into her arms and whispered, ‘You’re a diamond, Sadie Lou. Don’t you ever let anyone make you feel like less than the treasure you are.’”

Her mamaw was correct.

Everything I’ve uncovered and seen first-hand proves Sadie is nothing less than utter brilliant perfection. An angel amongst sinners, my God-given star amid the lonely night.

I can’t let her slip away.

With her scheduled to fly back to the States come Monday morning, I only have what remains of the weekend to convince her of what my soul knew the moment we met. I’m her destiny and she’s mine. Two bloody days. That’s all I have to turn a single weekend into a lifetime.

But I won’t fail; I can’t.

Not when she’s my entire future.

My gut twists seeing her pretty eyes shimmer with tears in the reflection of the glass. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to—”

“When she passed, a part of me died with her,” she continues, as if not hearing me, her words driving an invisible knife straight through my ribs. “I felt so lost, so alone. And then, when I found out about Maxwell and V-Vanessa...”

For a second time, her voice breaks, catching in her throat as I silently vow to make them pay for every ounce of pain they’ve caused her, if she so wishes.

One bloody way or another.

“I thought I knew what heartbreak was, but that... what they did shattered me. Mostly because I didn’t listen to Mamaw. I let someone—two someones—make me feel less than my worth.”

Trembling, she turns in my arms, facing me. Her small hands grasp the front of my shirt, holding on for dear life. “There’s something you should know.”

She hesitates, insecurity dancing over her face.

“It’s about Maxwell...”