28. Kelly
kelly
DONOVAN:
Be there in ten.
I TOSSED A second pair of jeans into my overnight bag and smiled at the message that had just popped up on my phone.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I’d been waiting for it all day.
It was Friday afternoon, and the two of us were headed out of town for the weekend.
Donovan had his big runway show, and I was happy to go along with him and spend a couple of days with him outside of the city, away from distractions—and from his friends.
Not that I didn’t enjoy hanging out with them, but we’d had a pretty full-on week where every time we turned around we seemed to run into someone. So it was going to be nice to get away and just be .
Can’t wait.
I rushed around my tiny apartment grabbing the final few things I needed.
Donovan had told me to pack light, which made me laugh, because I could only imagine the kind of luggage his friends usually brought for a trip out of town.
But he had no need to worry with me—packing light was the only way I knew how to travel.
I zipped up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, and after a final look around the small space, I pulled my door shut and headed downstairs.
The glare of the sun streamed through the door to my apartment building, so I flipped my sunglasses into place and stepped outside as the throaty purr of an expensive car filled my ears.
I looked up the street to see a sleek black roadster pulling up to the curb, and sitting behind the wheel was the man I was running away with for the next two days.
I didn’t think Donovan could be any sexier than he already was. But put him in what I could now see was a Jaguar convertible, in a pair of Aviators, with his windswept blond hair all over the place, and the guy was every fantasy I’d ever had—and more.
The car drew to a stop, and Donovan slung an arm over the back of the red leather passenger seat and looked up at me, that million-dollar smile full of charm and confidence.
“Hey there, handsome. Wanna go for a ride?”
I stepped up to the passenger door, aware I wasn’t the only one checking out the car or the man inside it.
“ This is what you’re picking me up in?” I ran a hand over the door. “I thought the van.”
Donovan drew off his sunglasses. “What? You don’t like my car?”
“Your car?” I figured he’d rented it for the weekend—or leased it. I’d never seen him drive anywhere, and I was surprised he knew how. A lot of New Yorkers didn’t.
“I got it a few years ago. For my sixteenth birthday.”
My brain exploded at the notion that anyone would own something so expensive so young, let alone at sixteen. “Are you serious?”
“Yep. Pretty sweet , huh? It’s a 1962 Jaguar E-Type.”
“Jesus. Who are you?”
Donovan got out to open the trunk and winked. “A prince, baby.”
I shook my head in disbelief and stored my bag, then climbed into the passenger seat. Donovan got back in, reached for the back of my neck, and pulled me in for a kiss. Greedy for a taste of that sweet-talking mouth, I swept my tongue along his lower lip.
Donovan hummed as he pushed away from me. “You look good in my car.”
I chuckled, resting my arm on the open window frame. “I’m pretty sure anyone would look good in this car.”
“Maybe, but I’m only looking at you.”
My heart thumped a little harder, because I knew exactly how he felt. Ever since he’d walked into my life, it was like no one else existed, and I was okay with that. He was the only one I wanted.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
Donovan shook his head and put the car into gear. “Nope, it’s a surprise.”
“I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises. I’m still getting over this one.” I smoothed my hand over the impeccable leather upholstery on the doors, the same cherry red as the seats. “Donovan, this car is—”
“Gorgeous?”
“Fuck yes.” I laughed. “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just promise to pet me like that later.” Donovan pulled into traffic and maneuvered the car like a dream through the Friday afternoon congestion, and I wasn’t sure why, but the fact he could drive so well was a complete and utter shock.
That’d teach me not to stereotype.
Once we got through the city and exited the tunnel, Donovan looked at me, a grin on his handsome face.
“Good thing you went with hair up today,” he shouted as he weaved between several cars to get in the lane he needed, then finally we broke free of the major congestion and hit the parkways.
The sun was shining, but with fall here to stay, the temperature was as close to perfect as it could get.
I sang along to the music blaring from the speakers, happy to watch Donovan as he drove, and that was when I realized I didn’t care where we were going or staying this weekend—as long as it was with him.
About an hour or so later, the scenery around us began to change from the city and parkways to lush greenery that went on for miles.
Donovan drove us down roads canopied by gorgeous maples turning every shade of red, brown, and yellow.
When he slowed the car to a crawl and turned off the main road, my jaw hit the floor of his Jag.
“Holy shit.” I sat forward, staring up the gravel entryway lined with high-clipped hedges and screened what I was assuming was a massive property from prying eyes. “What is this place?”
“Avalon Castle.”
I glanced over to see Donovan grinning.
“ This is where your show is?”
“Yep. It’s also where we’re staying this weekend.”
I could see some kind of gated entrance up ahead. As we drove up to it, a man in a suit and tie stepped out to greet us.
“Welcome to Avalon Castle.”
“Thank you,” Donovan said as though nothing about this was unusual to him at all. Hell, for all I knew, his family owned a place like this.
“We’re here for the Lemaire Fashion Show,” he added. “We’re staying in one of your suites for the weekend.”
“Wonderful, and what’s your name?”
“Donovan Truitt.”
The man stepped back into his checkpoint, and a few seconds later came out with a key card.
“Here you go, Mr. Truitt. This is your access for the gate here, and once you check in, they’ll give you your key for the room.”
“We appreciate it, thank you.”
“Of course. Enjoy your stay at Avalon Castle.”
He stepped away from the car, and a second later the wrought-iron gates yawned open. When Donovan pulled inside the large courtyard, the magnificent mansion finally came into full view.
Wow.
It was like something out of a movie towered over us. It looked like some kind of French chateau. Avalon Castle was completely and utterly breathtaking.
“What do you think?” Donovan asked as he parked.
“I… I don’t think I’ve ever been to a place like this in my life.”
Donovan placed a hand on my leg. “Good, then I’ll be your first.”
I turned and brushed a soft kiss over his smiling lips. “It’s beautiful, and so are you.”
“Thank you.” Donovan closed his eyes and took a deep inhale. “I love it out here. It’s quiet, and the air is fresh. The perfect getaway.”
“Checking in, sir?” the valet said as he opened Donovan’s door while another opened mine. They quickly took care of our bags, and after Donovan handed off his keys, he laced his fingers through mine and we headed inside the massive building to check in.
The lobby was just as ornate as the outside, with a double staircase cascading down to the marbled floor. “Will the show be in here?” I asked.
“Actually, no,” came a voice from behind us. The man smiled and gestured toward the other side of the room, where a wall of windows showcased an expansive, perfectly manicured lawn. “Lemaire has chosen the garden for tomorrow’s events.”
Garden? What I was looking at was nothing short of grand, with hedges, fountains, and flowers that went on for acres.
“You must be Donovan Truitt,” the man said. “I’m Paul Bradley, and I’ll be your concierge for the weekend. Would you like to be shown to your suite, or may I take you directly to your request?”
His request? What did that mean?
“The request, please.” Donovan winked at me and squeezed my fingers. As we followed Paul to the garden, I wondered what my guy had planned. Already this weekend was unreal, but I would’ve been happy holed up in a dodgy room somewhere, as long as it was with him.
But this would do juuust fine.
Paul led us past the crew of workers putting together the runway for tomorrow and toward a hill that overlooked a sparkling blue pond.
A large blanket had been laid out on the grass, adorned with pastel pillows of all colors, and a couple of cozy blankets.
Wine chilled in an engraved silver-plated bucket of ice, and there were several baskets and platters of delicious-looking food waiting for us.
“You planned this?” I tore my eyes away from the gorgeous setup to see Donovan smiling back at me.
“I thought we might be hungry when we arrived.”
No, he’d wanted to do something nice, something romantic, and that had me feeling a certain way, even as all the reasons this could be a bad idea roamed in the back of my mind.
“I love it,” I said, bringing Donovan’s hand up to my lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. Please call the number I gave you if there’s anything at all you need.” Paul bowed before heading back to the mansion, and I found myself staring after him.
“Did he just…bow?” I said.
Donovan laughed, an easy, relaxed sound, as he tugged me toward the blanket. “I think he’s used to working with royals. Must be a habit.”
“Unless the Park Avenue Prince name has a different meaning than the one you told me.”
“Nah, I’m not royalty. But it’s nice to be treated as such.”
I couldn’t argue that. We both kicked off our shoes and sat along the fluffed-up pillows, but the grass was surprisingly thick and soft under the blanket, rendering them unnecessary.