Chapter 4
Four
NICO
The hotel rises up before me like an apparition, courtesy of the projected images dancing across its facade.
Lights are everywhere, flashing from the entrance as the paps ply their trade, the hotel itself lit like a beacon.
There are frozen ice sculptures set on the walk up the red carpet, and as my car draws to a stop and I glance out of the blackened window, a curious sight greets me.
There is a woman, almost naked, shivering under the glare of the popping lights from the cameras. She is clutching her purse close to her chest and appears like a stricken fawn caught in the headlights.
I note my guards from the car in front take up their positions along the red carpet, the ones from behind mirroring them on the other side. She is now caught inside a wall of dark menace, and her quivering lip matches the shiver of her body as she stands on the most absurd silver heels.
The door opens, and Trent bows his head inside.
“There is a hold-up, a woman who hasn’t made it inside yet.”
“Then help her with that.”
My voice comes out as a low growl, and Trent nods. “Of course.”
I watch, mildly irritated, as he approaches her and as she raises her petrified eyes to his, something shifts inside me.
Possibility.
I step foot on the red carpet, noting their discussion, and as the cameras turn to me, I am blinded by their brilliance. I approach the woman, and her voice shakes as she whispers, “But I was invited.”
She balances her purse on one arm as she wipes a stray tear away, and as scenes go, this one is immensely tragic. In fact, she is a tragedy waiting to happen. A distraught Ophelia if you like, teetering on the point of madness, her ethereal beauty only heightened with the drama.
“Is there a problem?”
I close the gap, and Trent raises a weary eye. “She said she has an invitation. They disagree inside.”
I peer at her a little closer and note the vulnerability of the woman. Her outfit is preposterous and is doing nothing to wrap her in courage. If anything, it is dragging her down, and her porcelain skin is almost blue as she shivers against the cold icy wind.
I don’t hesitate and shrug out of my jacket, wondering if she will register that a firearm comes as part of the package. Trent’s eyes widen as I drape the jacket around her shivering shoulders and hiss, “Take my arm.”
Her eyes lift to mine in shock, and the gray hues of her irises spear me in the heart.
She is beautiful, a tragic goddess that has surprising consequences—for her. An ice queen who is melting under the glare of the light and I tilt my head toward the entrance. “Come. You’re freezing. Nobody is dying on my red carpet, either mentally or physically tonight.”
I offer her my arm, and as she wraps her icy fingers around it, we head toward the revolving doors in a haze of flashlights. Yes, the paps will eat well this Christmas because this photograph is pure gold.
We step inside the hotel, and the doorman nods respectfully, his eyes slightly raised as he notes my companion. He flashes a nervous gaze to the woman checking everyone in, whose mouth has dropped as she takes stock of the situation.
I glare at her with the promise of unemployment if she says one single word, and as we sweep through the lobby, I march straight to the reception desk.
The receptionist stares in horror as I bark roughly, “Send hot soup and sourdough up to the penthouse along with the silver dress I passed in the shop window.”
I pull back and cast my imperious eye over my shivering companion. “Size two, possibly four, send both along with matching heels in various sizes. I also require a beautician and hairdresser within twenty minutes.”
Her mouth drops as I grasp the girl’s arm beside me and propel her toward the private elevator that leads up to the penthouse.
Her eyes widen with horror as I push her inside, Trent the only guard joining us, and as I thump on the button for the top floor, she whispers, “Have I missed something?”
I lean against the wall, my gaze ravaging every part of her, missing nothing, taking everything in and plotting her downfall in my mind.
“You are cold, almost blue, and if we don’t act fast, you may die from hypothermia.”
Her astonishing gray eyes widen as she shivers in the gruesome almost-outfit.
“But I can’t afford this, I should leave.”
“Did I ask you to pay?”
She stares at Trent as if he will offer an explanation, but he rewards her with a blank stare, giving nothing away.
“But why?”
She shakes her head and appears so small and fragile inside my jacket, it tugs at my sense of responsibility for her.
“You came here to enjoy the party. In order for that to happen, you must be comfortable in your skin. You are obviously not, so I am rectifying that. You’re welcome.”
“You are very generous, Mr.–”
“Call me Nico.”
Trent’s eyes twitch, and it’s almost amusing. Not many people get to call me by my first name. I prefer Sir or Mr. Ravera, but if my plan is going to work out, I must change tactics for once.
“I’m pleased to meet you, um–” She draws in a breath, “Nico.”
I’m surprised when she holds out her hand and not the one clutching her purse to her breast as if it’s her lifebelt.
“I’m Regina Stone. I’m pleased to meet you.”
My hand clasps hers, and I note how cold it is. Like ice and I squeeze her hand gently, attempting to warm it with mine.
“Miss Stone.” I nod, and she cocks her head to one side.
“Please call me Regina, or my friends call me Reggie; either is fine.”
I don’t remove my hand, which she finds awkward judging from the blush that steals across her flawless complexion.
She turns her attention to Trent and wrenches her hand away from mine and offers it to him.
Luckily, he is trained well and ignores her outstretched hand and merely nods. “Ma’am.”
Her hand drops, and her gaze flickers between us nervously.
I suppose we are a little intimidating as we dwarf the space in the elevator, reminding her she is up close and personal with two strangers, hurtling toward a hotel bedroom.
Luckily, the elevator arrives, and as it opens into the huge space, I say politely, “After you, Regina.”
I inhale sharply as I follow her. Groaning at the sight of her ass that is barely covered by some kind of mesh, revealing she has no underwear on.
The jacket would have done a good job of covering that, but the pleats in the back of it fall open when she walks, and I swear my blood is heating up inside me.
She may as well be walking around naked. Whatever store she bought this monstrosity from saw her coming because the scraps of fabric pressed against her modesty are doing an incredibly bad job of preserving it.
I nod to Trent. “Check the rooms. I’ll show our guest to hers.”
He nods and does what he does best, secure the place and I jerk my head toward a small hallway set to one side.
“Come, there is a room you can use to freshen up.”
“It’s fine, um, I’m feeling a lot warmer now, and it’s so kind of you, but really I should go.”
With a sigh, I grasp her arm and propel her down the hallway, her feet tripping over themselves in her haste to keep up with me.
When I open the door, I waste no time in dragging her through the sumptuously furnished room toward the bathroom, and as I push open the door, light fills the decadent space.
“Oh my God.”
Her soft gasp is her immediate reaction, and she says in a whisper, “I don’t believe people live like this. My condo would fit in here with room for a pony.”
I say nothing and grasp a bottle of scented oil and proceed to fill the tub, the hot steamy water immediately coating the room in scented fog.
“You must warm up, and a deep bath is the best antidote to hypothermia. I’ll adjust the temperature accordingly so it’s not a shock to your frozen body.”
“I—I–”
She attempts to speak, but I don’t have time for her questions.
“You have fifteen minutes to soak away the ice inside you. When you are dry, you will find a warm robe on the heated wall and through that door–” I point to the one on the other side of the room.
“You will find a dressing room where a hairstylist and beautician will meet you. The dress and shoes will be waiting and then, when you are presentable, meet me where we came in for one shot of brandy followed by hot soup. Then we will join the party.”
“Um, did you say we?”
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and her haunting eyes stare at me with concern as I nod, my gaze fierce and protective.
“Yes, Regina. You are my guest now, and I treat them well. We will join the party when I am convinced you have been cared for, and then you will repay me by escorting me through the evening.”
“Escorting you, as in–” She takes a deep breath, causing her purse to fall a little, and now I know why she is guarding it so closely. The dress has slipped and is no longer providing ample coverage, and I sigh deeply.
“You will be my plus one. I’m sorry, that is the deal. If you prefer, I can call you a cab and you can leave.”
The fact that none of what I just said is true is inconsequential because I made up my mind as soon as my eyes connected with hers.
Regina Stone will be my bride, and there is nothing she can do about that.