Smoothing my flyaways and checking my phone camera quickly, I make sure I look halfway decent as the bellboy and I walk down a long hallway.
Deep breaths, Frankie.
I can keep my fucking shit together until I’m alone in my own hotel room, screaming into a pillow.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
The bellboy raps on the door three times, giving me a reassuring smile as I hear a pair of footsteps sound from the other side.
Oh, god, here goes nothing…
The door swings open, and I’m momentarily speechless.
Doctor Devil ispainfullyhandsome. And not just regular handsome like I assumed he was through the screen on our video calls. Of course not, because that would be too easy.
No, Dr. Dante Kincaid is hard to look at, because everything about him is perfect.
I don’t even know where to start, and I don’t want to be caught staring, so I focus my attention on his thick, muscled forearms and the…tattoos.My eyes nearly bug out of my head at that.
Tattoos!
My mind is officially blown that the uptight asshole who bosses me around has tattoos—a whole snake on his forearm, by the looks of it.
He’s wearing a white button-up that’s basically a second skin and fitted black slacks. A thin, black belt hugs his narrow hips, and he has black dress shoes on.
I am indeed in trouble, because tatted guys who wear suits are my kryptonite, and my mouth is dry because I can’t reconcile the man before me with the Doctor Devil who makes me want to cry on a daily basis. His shirt is unbuttoned around his neck, and he’s not wearing a tie. His short beard is trimmed neatly and his dark brown hair has flecks of gold in it. He has a silver smartwatch wrapped around one wrist, and as my eyes drift back over to his tattoos, someone clears their throat.
I snap my head up just as the bellboy begins speaking, but I hardly hear him. Doctor Devil’s voice isn’t something I hear all the time—we correspond mainly via email, and once a month we’ll have a brief phone call—but it seems lower in person than it is over Zoom. He must’ve just told him to bring the suitcase inside, and then he stands to the side as the bellboy pushes the gilded luggage cart into his suite.
As he crosses his arms, his bright green eyes find mine, thick brows framing hisvery seriousexpression.
“How was your flight?” he asks me, his voice low and unamused.
“Oh, um—” I rasp, clearing my throat. “Good, thanks.”
Doctor Devil’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, but before he can invite me inside, the bellboy walks back over to us.
“Suitcase is in the master bedroom, Dr. Kincaid. Please let me know if you need anything else.”
Doctor Devil pulls a hundred-dollar bill out of nowhere and shakes the bellboy’s hand. “Thanks, Dominic,” he adds, giving him a genuine smile that has me reeling.
I didn’t realize demons were capable of smiling.
As the bellboy walks away, I realize with a start that he said he put the suitcase in the master bedroom…
Doctor Devil’smaster bedroom.
“Wait! Sorry, is it possible to put my suitcase in my room?” I ask the bellboy just as he starts to walk away.
“We can go down to reception and get it sorted on the way to lunch,” Dr. Kincaid says, looking between the bellboy and me.
“Of course, sir,” the bellboy says, dipping his head before he exits the room.
The door snicks shut, and the silence is deafening. I look at Dr. Kincaid but he just turns and walks away, leaving me standing by the door in the living room area.
