Page 103 of Ruined Vows
I grip the railing, let the breeze bite my skin, and carry my pulse back to something steady.
He went to impossible lengths to impress me. To comfort me. To make mewanthim without asking for it out loud.
And it almost worked.But not today.Because the second I feel myself slipping, I pull myself back. He may have given me a kingdom to stand in…But I’m still not ready to hand him the throne.
The staff doesn't swarm—they move like ghosts. Perfect posture and barely audible steps. It’s a tradition in their culture, and unknown to Americans. Not a single request needs to be spoken aloud—they already know what we need.
When they open the door to our suite, I don’t step inside; Ifloat.
My jaw actually drops.
Holy. Shit.
The room is huge—massive, but intimate. Every detail is deliberate. Earth tones and soft textures, pillows stacked like offerings, floor-to-ceiling windows giving me the Pacific Ocean with the sky as my private mural. There's a private terrace with a soaking tub framed by glass and stone, and when I step out, I hear nothing but water and wind.
Not even the sound of the world catching up to me. It’s quiet. It’s beautiful, and it’s terrifying me how much I like it. This isn’t the kind of luxury that screams for attention; it doesn’t need to, because this is the kind that wraps around you, quietly whisperingyou belong here and you’ll be pampered to death.
And I don’t know what scares me more: That I feel like I do…or that he knew I would. If seduction had another name, this hotel is it.
The crystal glows from the ceiling like floating fire. Warm,perfumed air curls along the floor. The kind of understated opulence that whispers instead of screams—wealth so old it doesn't need to announce itself. The Tokyo skyline stretches beyond walls of glass like a living painting.
Every window has a view of the ocean. I slide over the plush white carpet and enter my room. It’s massive—floor-to-ceiling everything, silk drapes, gold accents, an infinity tub with flower petals already floating in it. There's a custom tea set on a lacquered table, pillows the size of thrones, and a view of Mount Fuji from the balcony.
I’ve seen royalty live worse.
“You approve?” Vukan asks from behind me, all smooth danger and masculine satisfaction.
I don’t turn around. “Did you buy out the entire floor?”
“No,” he says. “Just the ones you'd hear through the walls.”
I roll my eyes and step farther inside. “For someone who wants me to fall in love with him, you’re really good at making me suspicious.”
“That’s the fun part.”
He leaves me to explore, and I let myself enjoy the ambiance. Because this? This is luxury the way it wasmeantto be. It’s quiet, indulgent, and entirely mine.
But it gets worse.
Because the day only gets better. There is a printed itinerary! I instinctively know he not only put thought into this, but he had to have planned it in advance. And that means he’s been thinking about me.
When did he have the time to set this up? But then I remember his extensive network of connections and access to unlimited resources. I’m sure he has a personal assistant who arranged the details. But I’m still excited. I read down the list for today, and it starts with spa attendants waiting outside my suite.
“Let’s change,” Vukan says from across the way. “My room is next to yours.”
“Oh.” I nod.Why am I disappointed?
I wash my face and change into a casual hoodie and matching sweatpants. Our attendant leads us to the elevator, and Vukan moves aside for me to enter first.
The ride is quiet. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, just static. Like, I’m waiting for what? I have no idea. We step out onto a floor with a check-in desk, but don’t stop until we get to sliding doors with frosted glass. Inside is a locker room.
I’m instructed to change, so I slip into a robe and slippers and rejoin Vukan as we sit on a mat for hot tea. Cups are handed to us as we face each other. It’s intimate. I’m overwhelmed to the point I’m jumping out of my skin. I’m not good with intimacy. I don’t have much experience with it. And damn him for knocking me off my game.
Next, we’re led into a private room for the massage that smells of fragrant oils.
Oh, God, Acouple’smassage. I raise an eyebrow when Vukan shows up in a robe, smug and barefoot, like he owns the air. And truth be told? He does.
“You planned this?” I ask as I slide onto the table.
