Page 114 of Devil's Bride

The pinging of the elevator coincided with the hard roll of my eyes. I did that a lot around him. I pushed him away and he acted as if he was going to stumble.

I knew better.

“Such an asshole.” I strode down the hallway toward the suite while he lumbered along behind me. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d had the best morning in a very long time. He didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

At least not yet.

Sure, my tummy was full and I had a remembrance of my sugar drunken stupidity while studying for exams, but this had been an easy task for him.

All he’d needed to do was arrange for a store meant to open a day later to open just for us, baking a solid fifteen kinds of donuts for me to choose from.

But still, the act was peanuts in comparison to all the other sexy things he could do just for me.

Still, my heart was as warm as my tummy and that deeply concerned me. Why was he trying so hard? And why had he been able to worm his way into a tiny portion of my heart?

His phone rang, breaking my reverie as well as my sugar high. Business would always come first.

“Darling,” he said with saccharin lacing his tone. “Can you take these and I’ll be right in?” He didn’t technically wait for me to answer, shoving the boxes into my arms. Now I could barely see over them, but I would not drop even one. They were far too precious.

At least he opened the door for me, thankfully holding it open until I was safely inside.

What a gentleman. He even closed the door afterwards. I wondered who he was talking to but reminded myself he also had a business to run.

Meanwhile, I’d been forced to leave my father’s business in limbo. While Emiliano and Antonio were watching over the shipments, I wasn’t there to handle calls.

Not that I had a freaking clue what I was doing. Or that the employees at the corporate offices were doing anything other than sucking down moo juice and coffee. Even my new assistant Rodolpho had only contacted me once, but I’d heard he and Antonio had a special bond.

How nice for the two of them.

All that would need to be sorted out once we returned to Barcelona.

Maybe I could convince Jago to stay a few days longer. Krispy Kreme every day!

I laughed and moved into the living room, still juggling the boxes so I wouldn’t drop them.

Plink.

The sound caught my attention first and I was immediately driven on edge. I shot my head up, prepared to scream. There was nothing like catching sight of someone inside your locked suite.

“Oh, hello. Can I help you?” Keeping my eye on the guy in the bellman’s uniform, I slowly placed the boxes on the coffee table.

The young man finally turned away from what he was doing.

Ah. Jago had ordered champagne. He’d thought of everything.

“Room service,” the hotel employee finally answered.

I took a deep breath, glancing toward the door, uncertain when he’d had the time to do this, but knowing my… husband, the sneaky bastard that he was, I wouldn’t put anything past him.

“That’s very nice.” I opened my clutch, grateful I had a few euros stuffed inside along with my ID. “Let me see what I have.” I was busy trying to figure out how much I could tip him, so my face was staring down at the level of his hands. When there was movement right in front of me, I shifted my eyes.

And noticed Arabic symbols on his fingers.

Panic struck, constricting my chest like a snake shooting its venomous poison directly into my veins.

“Fuck,” I managed.

Between one second and the next, the bellboy with a really bad haircut launched himself in my direction.

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