Page 72 of The Only Heart that Matters
“That’s where you snuck off to, isn’t it? You went to surprise your wife. How romantic.”
“Guilty as charged. We don’t get nights like this often. I thought we should take advantage of it while we can.”
“I remember those days. Little ones are exhausting. It’s easy to forget about the two of you as a couple.”
Is this happening right now?
Are we really having this conversation with my boss?
“Thank you for the offer of a ride, though.” Angus oozes with charm I’ve never seen before this evening. “We’ve had a wonderful night and I’m glad to have met everyone.”
“Our pleasure. Now, you two get. Don’t waste anymore of your evening here with me. I’ll see you on Monday, Mia.”
The sound my name pulls me out of my stupor. “Oh, yes. Monday. I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks again.”
In a daze, we walk hand in hand through the dimly lit ballroom, out into the brighter lights of the lobby. It’s a public place where anyone can see the two of us glued to one another.
What happened to one night?
As if he doesn’t have a care in the world, Angus saunters to the elevators and presses the up button. He is the definition of calm while I exist in a state of confused anticipation. Just as the elevator pings, I remember I forgot to stop by coat check.
“Angus, I forgot my coat,” I say, taking a step away from the elevator doors.
He doesn’t let me go, though. “You didn’t wear a coat. Remember?” The elevator doors open and for the sake of my heart, I know I shouldn’t follow him in, but I do.
Of course I do.
“What about Sawyer?”
“I already called Daisy. She’ll stay the night with him.”
His voice is almost stern, his face solemn, yet there is still a fire in his eyes.
His mood swing sends a chill down my spine, a reminder of our other night together. Not the part of the night in the tack room where he gave me the reins, but back at his house, when he was very much in charge. It was the best night of my life.
“Daisy is gonna know something is going on.”
“I really don’t want to talk about my sister right now.”
We stand side by side, hand in hand, looking at each other in the reflection of the closed doors in front of us.
The way he looks at me, never breaking his gaze, is something I’ll never get used to.
It’s intense.
When we reach our floor, my hand is still in his as we walk to the last door at the end of the hall. Using the key he snuck away to get, he holds the door open for me as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. Like Angus and I spend the night in hotel rooms together all the time.
My body hums when I brush past him. Everything but the bed is a blur. The white duvet is pulled back and there are two robes laid out across the foot of the bed. A side table holds two champagne flutes and a silver ice bucket chilling a bottle of champagne.
He was gone so long because not only did he get the room, but he came up here to prepare. I’m not sure what to do. Or what to say. We shouldn’t do this, but leaving this room isn’t an option.
I want this.
I want him.
Not yet daring to look at him, I can hear the shake in my voice when I finally speak. “We said one night.”
He strides past me to the table, where he lifts the bottle of bubbly from the bucket. My body is on high alert, jumping when he pops the cork. The sound reverberating against my anxious heart. He fills both glasses, then turns to face me, leaving them on the table.
