7. Ella
7
ELLA
Oh… my god.
If the private jet wasn’t evidence enough that I’ve entered another world, then this hotel clearly is. I’ve never been inside anything so grand before. Soaring ceilings with exquisite frescoes. Marble floors so glistening that I should be wearing sunglasses. And that chandelier? That thing must cost more than I’ve earned in my entire lifetime. Then again… that’s not too crazy.
But this place is. I turn around slowly, trying to take it all in. “This is…”
I can’t speak. I can’t believe where I’m at. Where am I? I’m actually blanking on where this wedding is. Where this hotel— palace? —is located. Italy? I’m not sure. Details have been lost or muddled in this blur of a trip, but does it honestly matter?
Whew . My stomach is fluttering all over again, and it’s not from the turbulence.
“This is incredible.”
But as I look at Adrian, it seems I’m alone in this assessment.
His hands are clasped behind his back as he looks around with the kind of casual indifference I’d expect from someone checking out used cars. Oh, that’s fine. Solid. Reliable. Gets you from point A to B. Now let’s talk price…
He turns to me. “It’s nice.”
It takes me a few moments. Is he joking? No, the man’s a billionaire, and he probably thinks this place looks like a hovel.
“Nice? Nice? This place is straight out of a movie. You know, like the ones you make.”
“I prefer Splendido Mare . Cozy. Refined. And the views are unmatched,” he says without a hint of pretension, which somehow makes it worse. And the way he affected an Italian accent? This man is something else.
“Do you have any idea how you sound right now? Like, do you hear yourself?”
Adrian raises a brow. “What? I’m merely pointing out my preference.”
He’s being serious. The man has no idea how out of touch he is. That experiencing something like this is a rarity in most people’s lives. I don’t even know where to begin. I had high hopes after that plane ride, but now? Not so much.
“ I prefer the Splendido Mare,” I mimic, trying my best to match his baritone as I stand akimbo. “ Cozy. Refined. A steal at a price for a few grand a night,” I add for good measure before sucking in another breath.
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and I feel another flutter in my stomach. “It was only one grand last I stayed. Double the price of…” He gestures to the extravagant hotel lobby.
On second thought… ugh . He has to be messing with me. I stare at him for a few long beats.
“How will you make it through this weekend slumming it?”
He takes a few steps toward me, and the flutter turns into a clench. And when his half-smile turns into a full one, every nerve ending in my body ignites.
He erases the gap between us, and I finally breathe in that sinful scent of his again. Spicy. Warm. Man? Discerning scents has never been my forte. I’ve turned far too many batches of cookies into charcoal before my nose realizes my error. But Adrian’s scent is unmistakable. Unforgettable. And it’s undeniable how it affects my body.
“I’ll have you. With me,” he adds a few beats later.
Oh. God.
Tingles. Everywhere. And those nerve endings become engulfed in flames as I exhale, long and slow. The air between us crackles as the noise from the lobby fades, like someone turning down a dial on a radio. It’s just us. And for a brief moment, I think Adrian’s going to touch me. Kiss me? No. That’s insane. And even more insane that I wouldn’t fight it.
His hand moves toward my face, but then stops as someone turns the dial back up, time speeds back up, and a woman’s voice rips me from the moment.
“Mr. Thorne!”
I turn, still dazed, as I follow Adrian’s gaze. A woman dressed in a tailored navy suit strides toward us, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a sleek chignon. “I was hoping to catch you before check-in.”
Adrian seamlessly shifts into business mode. Even his voice is different. But as he places a hand on the small of my back, I’m finding it hard to concentrate. “Ms. Laurent,” he begins, as the woman stops, smiling at him before turning her attention to me. “This is?—”
“Ms. Gabriella Barbera,” she finishes, collecting my hands in hers. “I’ve heard so much about you from Mrs. Thorne.”
I manage what I hope is a convincing smile, but with Adrian’s hand on me, everything feels discombobulated. “Only good things, I hope.”
Although I wish I could’ve asked for examples, just in case I need to jot down some notes. Our study session on the plane was in-depth, but remembering it all will be the real challenge, especially if Adrian keeps his hands on me.
Whew. It’s getting toasty in here. And is he stroking my back? I want to shoot him a look, but now is not the time.
“Of course,” Ms. Laurent assures me. “I understand you love Mediterranean cuisine?” She lets the sentence hang as my mind blanks again. “Your family is from Italy, correct?”
Uh. Buhhhhh. Uhh. “Righty-oh!” My GOD, what am I doing? I almost gave her a nudge and a wink. But more than that, what else is Adrian not telling me? He never mentioned my food preferences apart from me being a vegetarian. And my family history? I don’t even know my real family’s heritage. Details, Mr. Thorne. I’d love to have more of them.
Ms. Laurent clears her throat, realizing that this conversation thread is going nowhere because I’m realizing just how ill-equipped I am to play my new role. Improvisation was never a strength.
“Well,” Ms. Laurent begins, clasping her hands in front of her. “The reason I stopped you is that I need to confirm the seating arrangements for tonight. Will you be attending the rehearsal dinner? The yacht departs at seven.”
Yacht? Wait. No. Nonono. That can’t happen. The last time I was on a boat… I swallow the bile rising in my throat. This is not good. And I try to communicate that with Adrian through frantic eye contact and telepathy, but unfortunately, none of it translates.
“Of course. We’ll be there,” Adrian says, sliding his palm up my back.
And for a brief moment, my nausea subsides. Maybe his touch isn’t so bad after all.
“Gabriella grew up on boats, sailing around the Gulf of Naples in her father’s fishing boat.”
On second thought. That touch feels like sandpaper right about now. I grew up on a boat? What the hell is he talking about? It’s like he’s actively trying to sabotage this weekend.
“That’s… right. I love boats. How they… float. And move in the water. Water. I love the water. Nothing better than waves. Fish. Sun. Dolphins. Air.” And now I’m stringing together nouns like a toddler listing their favorite new words they learned.
I clear my throat as Ms. Laurent stares at me like I’m some circus sideshow curiosity. “But I have to correct my dear, dear boyfriend.” I wrap my arm around Adrian, making sure I get a good, hard grip on his waist. When he groans, I know it’s just right. “He’s mixing up a few details. My uncle was the fisherman. I’d join him sometimes when we visited family in Italy. But I was born in the States,” I add quickly, because I’m not about to play tour guide to Adrian’s family or relatives in a country I’ve literally never been to until now.
Ms. Laurent lets out a short sigh. “That’s wonderful. I hope to pick your brain later about some of the local sights. It’s my first time.”
I smile, trying my best not to crack a molar, waiting for this interaction to end. “Of course. I’d love to.”
After a few more minutes of chatting, Ms. Laurent leaves us in the lobby. I wait until she’s out of earshot before turning to Adrian.
“A cruise? Italian heritage? I love boats? What are you thinking?”
Adrian peers down at me, my cheeks inflamed and my stomach churning as I consider what a night on a boat will mean for me.
His jaw clenches and then relaxes. “I might’ve called an audible.”
“I don’t know what that means, but don’t do that again unless you want this weekend to blow up in our faces. We have to be on the same page, which means I need to have all the information. I…”
I turn around, running my hands through my hair as I try to relax. It’s fine. It will be fine. It’s a slight hiccup.
A few moments later, Adrian places his hand on the nape of my neck. “I’m sorry.” His low, rumbling voice skates across my skin. “But I can’t promise it won’t happen again. I can’t say I remember everything I told my family these last few months.”
“You have a problem.”
I don’t have to look to know he’s smiling. My body’s reacting to him without me seeing it. And with his thumb circling against my skin, it’s even more intense.
“I can’t deny that.”
I swallow hard and then turn. Sure enough, there’s that smile. “Or more precisely, problems. Because tonight is not going to go smoothly.”
“Giving up before we begin?”
I shake my head. “No, but you know my motion sickness?”
“Of course,” he says as his smile fades.
“The last time I was on a boat, I spent the entire trip with my head hanging over the side after I hurled all over the deck.”
Adrian stares at me for a few moments, mulling something over. “It might not be as bad as you think. The yacht’s large. If you stay away from the railing, you likely won’t realize you’re on the water.”
“That’s what my old college boyfriend told me.” I swallow the bile rising in my throat as I remember that horrific weekend. “The yacht I was expecting turned out to be nothing more than a rickety old speedboat hardly fit for the water.”
Adrian’s jaw flexes. “I’m not your old college boyfriend.” There’s that cold demeanor. But then his eyes soften along with the tension in his face. “You can expect that I mean what I say.”
I swallow. “Noted. But I can’t say I’m looking forward to spending my evening trying not to vomit in front of or on your family.”
Adrian steps forward, reaching for my face but then lowering his hand to my shoulder at the last moment. “If I’m wrong, and you’re still seasick on the yacht, we’ll leave. No questions asked.”
“What about face time with your family?”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that. This is my fault, and I don’t want you to suffer for my mistake.”
Another apology? I wasn’t expecting that, but I don’t mind it. “Okay,” I say, finally. “But I have to ask if there are any other surprises I should know about. Does Gabriella also secretly love skydiving? Or will we be bungee jumping off the side of the yacht after dinner?”
Adrian’s lips twitch. Another smile. “No skydiving. But I suppose now would be a good time to tell you about our wedding entrance. It includes hang gliding, pyrotechnics, and a lot of maple syrup.”
My eyes widen until I realize he’s joking. “So you do have a sense of humor.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m joking?”
I groan. He’s lucky he’s handsome. Very handsome. He’s making it hard to be annoyed with him for very long.
“But,” Adrian rasps, his voice lowering as he moves closer. “If you think it’s not a good idea for you to get on a boat for the rehearsal dinner, I can cancel. We could stay here. Just us. Recuperate after the long flight. My family would understand.” He almost reaches for me, but his arm freezes and falls back to his side.
Just us.
I can’t believe I’m considering it. But what would that actually entail? Maybe I could have time to brush up on that document again. Head into tomorrow with a real game plan because if that last interaction is any indication of how this weekend will go, we’re done for.
But as much as I and my stomach would like to skip out on tonight, I can’t. I won’t. No matter how ill-equipped I feel right now, I need to push through. I can do this. We can do this? I have to remember that I’m not alone in this. Adrian has as much skin in the game as I do. More.
“Thanks for the offer, but we need to do this. We’re supposed to sell this relationship. I’m not looking forward to an evening of seasickness, but I’m following through with my end of this contract. I don’t want any reason for you to back out on your end.”
He looks at me like I just shredded his favorite suit. “You’re here. I’m not backing out of anything, no matter how this weekend ends up. I never renege.”
I hold his gaze. It’s fiery, but he’s not angry or annoyed. Passionate?
“Okay,” I say simply before glancing around the lobby. I’d completely forgotten where we were. Adrian seems to have a skill for holding my attention and drowning out the rest of the world.
Adrian smiles at me, and it makes my stomach flip. It does an entire Olympic floor routine when he slips his hand around my waist, leans in, and whispers, “You’re going to do amazing, Ella.”
His warm breath causes goosebumps to rise along my neck. This is the closest his lips have been to mine. My heart is hammering so fast that I’m dizzy. The world around me is beginning to spin. But when Adrian brushes his hand against mine, I’m tugged back to reality.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
It takes me a few moments to realize he’s talking about holding hands.
I shake my head. “Not at all. Just playing the part.” I slip my hand into his, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in my core and the electricity arcing through my body. I clear my throat, tugging him along toward the front desk. “Let’s go, honey bear.”
Adrian laughs, falling in beside me. “Honey bear?”
I glance at him as we slip past couples dragging suitcases behind them. “It’s your favorite pet name. Remember?”
“That’s not-you’re not…” He pauses, and I keep going, but he maintains his grip around my hand and pulls me backward into him.
I get flashbacks to our first meeting. The first time I ran into him. I feel just as disoriented, but for the first time, I feel like I have a little more power. I’m in control of how this weekend goes. Although I don’t plan on sabotage, I think I might have a little fun.
“Consider it payback. If you can make up my whole backstory, I can have a little fun with pet names, sugar lips.”
His gaze turns dark. Trancelike as he stares at my lips. My skin burns as my heart hammers, and I get the distinct feeling that he wants to kiss me.
“We never broached the subject of kissing.” Dark. Raspy. Gruff. Adrian’s voice rumbles through me.
I swallow hard, refusing to stare at his lips. “Why are you bringing it up now?” My voice is soft and thin in comparison to his. A wisp of smoke.
He brushes the back of my hand with his thumb, eyes trained on mine. “Just crossed my mind.”
“Kissing me?”
The corner of his mouth tugs upward. “I would never think about kissing you,” he says in a voice that makes it very clear that it has crossed his mind. Multiple times.
I clear my throat. “We’re not kissing unless it’s in front of your parents. Your brother. Your ex. ”
“So it’s not off the table then.”
I try to speak. I open my mouth to speak. But I can’t formulate a response. Did he just trick me?
“Good to know,” Adrian rasps before moving again. This time, he’s the one tugging me along.
This weekend might be a little more complicated than I imagined.