Page 12 of The Exception

After I’d told the front desk I was Gilded Lily, Jo and I were escorted to our suite. I peppered Jo with more facts about the hotel and its design. The building was nestled into a dramatic cliffside that overlooked the ocean. And the finishes—from the tile to the faucets—were all locally sourced or made by local artisans.

“I’m going to start getting ready for the welcome party,” I called out from my bedroom.

I was still anxious about the château and my dwindling savings. But tonight, that didn’t matter. Tonight, I was Gilded Lily, successful luxury-travel blogger.

I dressed and put on my makeup, then finished my look with a dark brown wig that was one of my favorites. Long and wavy, it was probably the closest to my natural hair, at least, what it used to look like before I’d lost all of it.

“I love that one,” Jo said, catching sight of me in the mirror as I finished applying my eyelashes.

“Francine?” I patted my head with a smile. “She’s my favorite.”

I named all of my wigs. And after having alopecia for sixteen years, I’d tried all sorts of kinds. Different colors of hair. Different styles and lengths. It was fun to be able to change my look with my mood, and it helped ease some of the grief from my hair loss.

When I’d worked for Graham, I’d been in my lob era. And I’d worn a shoulder-length wig in a much lighter color. More of a golden-blond with highlights.

“They all look amazing on you.” She grinned.

I thanked her, and then we headed out to the courtyard where the event was taking place. Musicians played a lively tune, and I smiled as a gentle breeze flirted with the hem of my dress. We grabbed some drinks, and while I was comparing notes with another travel blogger about the best airlines for international travel, Jo got pulled into another conversation. We found ourselves on opposite sides of the courtyard.

Someone else asked me a question, and I got caught up in what I was saying about the size of some of the first-class seats. When my hand connected with a firm body, I startled.

“I’m so sorry.” I turned to apologize, but my eyes widened as I took in the man I’d struck.

Graham?

“Liliana,” he rasped. He leaned in, close enough for me to smell crisp cedar, another earthy, woodsy scent that I couldn’t pinpoint, and notes of lavender. “Or does everyone call you Lily now? Because of your blog.”

I was so surprised by his words that I stumbled back a step. I nearly collided with a passing waiter but luckily sidestepped him and his tray. “Sorry.” I cringed, just trying to get out of the way before I injured anyone else. “Sorry.”

I wobbled on my feet, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.Oh god. Could this get any worse?

Before I realized what was happening, my heel caught in one of the grooves between the stones. I windmilled my arms, but I was falling backward. I reached out for something, anything.

Graham was already stretching his arms toward me. My eyes widened, and I latched on to his lapels. But it was too late. I’d already gained too much momentum. And then he was coming with me.

The impact of the water was a shock to my system, cold against my heated skin. I pushed to the surface, spluttering as soon as my head was above water. Graham bobbed to the top, slicking his hair away from his face.

His thick curls were coiled even tighter from the water. Despite the fact that he’d just fallen into a pool, he looked every inch the billionaire CEO he was. Powerful. In control. Determination oozing from his pores.

He scanned me, and my skin warmed beneath his perusal. I was pinned in place by those intelligent green eyes, unable to turn or even breathe.

My heart raced, and I felt off-kilter from all the adrenaline suddenly flooding my veins. At least, that’s what I told myself it was.

“Oh my god. I’m so…” I lifted my hand as if to smooth down his waterlogged tie. His bespoke suit clung to his muscles in a way that had my mouth going dry. “So.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Sorry.” I placed my hand on his lapel, as if that could somehow fix this.

He glanced down at my hand and then met my eyes once more. “Liliana.” He placed his hand over mine, and I tried to ignore the frisson his touch sent through me.That was new.

Or maybe it was just that he’d so rarely touched me in the past. But now that he was, it was all I could think about. The way his larger hand enveloped my smaller one. The way his long, elegant fingers curved over mine. The rough calluses on his palms.

A camera flashed, and I winced at the brightness. It was then I realized everyone was staring at us; some of them even had their phones out, cameras pointed at us and filming. I gently patted my head, relieved my wig was still in place.Thank god.

I gritted my teeth and waded over to my purse, snatching it from the pool. And then I made my way to the stairs, trying to ignore the way everyone watched us.

Graham swore under his breath, something about how I was such a menace.

“How is this my fault?” I muttered, careful to keep my voice low.

He gave me a look as if to say, “Of course it’s your fault.”

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