Chapter Three
Rosie
I jerk in surprise, but Mr. Burke pretends not to notice. My heart pounds as I think about sharing a space with him—but of course, I’m not going to.
I have my own room reserved at another hotel on the outskirts of town. I’ll go there after we finish our errands for the day. And if he wants me to have a room and use his suite for wedding-related tasks, that’s fine.
It’s fine.
So why is my pulse slamming in my neck, making a dull roar in my ears?
I can’t breathe properly as he settles his hand in the small of my back and turns me, pointing us toward the elevators.
“What’s next on our agenda?” he asks like this is completely normal.
He’s taking me upstairs to his hotel room. It’s just the two of us alone together in Vegas. Nothing about this is normal.
“Oh, um. . .” I fumble for my phone. “Menu tasting dinner tonight. And picking up our dresses tomorrow.”
“Explain to me how your dresses are here? Isn’t that something that you’d need to try on?”
“We ordered them through a chain. I went to Portland to try mine on, and Melanie went to the store in New York. The final fitting will be done tomorrow, and they apparently have a seamstress on site who can make any necessary adjustments.”
It seemed like a great idea, especially for Melanie, because a wedding dress would take up an entire suitcase. Her canceled flight now makes this all a little more stressful, but it’ll work out. It has to.
“Anything else?”
I scan through the messages. “Oh, she wants us to time how long it takes to go from the chapel to the rooftop pool area because that’s where they’re taking pictures.”
“We can do that after dinner. I was up there last night; they have a nice hot tub.” He skims his hand up my back and rubs the tense spot between my shoulder blades as the elevator doors open. “You had a lot of things added to your plate today, Rosie. You deserve a bit of relaxation tonight, too.”
“It’s fine,” I insist under my breath as we step into the crowded car.
He doesn’t reply.
His suite is at the top of the tower, so we have to keep shifting to let people out of the elevator. With each departure, I’m moved a little closer to Mr. Burke. By the time we reach his floor, his arm is all the way around my shoulders, and I’m leaning into his heavy warmth.
As soon as the doors open, we jump apart. I’m probably blushing as I scurry ahead of him, which is silly—I don’t know which way his room is.
So I stop, suddenly.
And he plows into me from behind, his hands catching me by the hips.
“Sorry,” I squeak.
He rubs my side for a moment then steps around me. And he holds out his hand. “This way, Rosie.”
All of the little touches so far have been very nice. The way he stroked my face outside the flower shop? The casual way his fingers traced on my upper arm in the elevator?
So freaking nice.
But sliding my fingers into his so he can tug me along to his hotel room?
There is no way I’m going to survive a weekend with Mr. Burke without revealing that he’s the only person I’ve ever fantasized about.
The door to his suite is halfway down the hall—and I realize with a start that it’s the last door on this side.
Which means his room—suite—is massive.
Inside he takes me through a central living room space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking The Strip to a bedroom with an untouched king-sized bed.
“This is the second bedroom,” he says, setting my suitcase on the bed. “It’s all yours.”
I turn in a slow circle. It’s gorgeously decorated in luxurious cream fabrics with gold accents. The windows here are covered in thick curtains, and it’s so much bigger than my bedroom back home. Bigger, quieter, and prettier.
“Can I really stay here?”
“Of course. I want you to.”
“Because I have a reservation, but. . .” I’ve already lost the money for tonight’s stay. But if I can save the money I would spend on the other four nights, I might be able to do something really special on my birthday.
“Rosie, it’s fine. I want you to stay here with me.”
I lick my lips. “Melanie might wonder—”
“Tell her you’re staying next door.” He steps closer and lowers his voice, even though it’s just the two of us in the suite. “This can be our secret. And she’s not going to be in until tomorrow anyway, so don’t worry about it for tonight.”
I nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Okay.”
He grins back at me. “Yeah?”
“Yep.”
“Then I’ll leave you to unpack and get ready for dinner.” He glances at my suitcase. “It’s Vegas. Don’t worry too much about what you wear.”
“I have a couple of dresses,” I say in a rush. “They’re not fancy. More like sundresses.”
His gaze snaps back to my face. “Whatever you wear will be perfect, Rosie. I promise you that.”
Once he’s gone, I skip to the bathroom and groan in delight at the giant soaker tub and separate shower with a complicated multi-head system. So many choices.
I have time for a good long bath, so I start that, then go back to the bed and open my suitcase.
The first thing I do is put the dress I want to wear tonight on a hanger so the few wrinkles collected on the flight can fall out. Then I put away the rest of my clothes and take my makeup bag and toiletry kit to the bathroom.
There’s a bag on the back of the door with a tag explaining the suite has complimentary laundry service, so I strip out of my clothes and put them in the laundry bag.
So this is what it’s like to be rich. I twirl naked and scoop up my toothbrush, then dance into the bedroom again to get my phone so I can listen to music in the tub.
I’m halfway across the room when there’s a knock at the door.