Page 25 of One Weekend in London

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.

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