Page 11 of Along Came Amor
“Seemed like you were about to say something.”
She shot him a glance. “Well... I don’t like olives.”
He raised his brows. “And you were afraid to tell me that because...?”
She blew out a breath. “My stepmother is Greek. I’m not allowed to dislike olives, so I don’t ever voice that opinion.”
And yet she’d told him. That meant something, but he didn’t know what.
“I promise not to tell her,” he said gravely, and she grinned.
Roman shot a quick text to the kitchen manager, asking them to send up the most popular items and a champagne bucket.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened directly into the most luxurious suite at the Dulce Playa. Taking her hand, Roman led her into the space, watching for her reaction.
The rooms were decorated in the Dulce’s signature gold and blue color scheme, but with more emphasis on lighter earth tones than the New York City locations, which skewed more toward the deep, rich blue. To the left, a sectional sofa and matching pair of armchairs created a conversation center, whileto the right, a glass-topped dining table boasted seating for eight.
Ava let out a low whistle.
“Do you like it?” He didn’t know why, but he cared what she thought.
She granted him a shy grin. “I have to admit, I thought it would be more ostentatious.”
That pulled a laugh out of him. “Yeah? Like with a glass bar and big silver unicorn statue?”
“Exactly.” She turned her head, taking it all in. “But I’m glad it’s not.”
It pleased him that she’d noticed. Décor in a lot of hotels went either too elaborate or too minimalist, in his opinion. When someone stayed at a Dulce, he wanted them to feel like they were at home, but better. Beautiful and elegant, but not cluttered. Clean and spacious, but not cold. “Comfortable luxury” was a surprisingly hard balance to strike, and he’d spent many hours poring over furnishings and textile samples before settling on the perfect mix of sharp angles and plush fabrics. He was more hands-on than some hoteliers he knew, but his attention to detail was what made the Dulce Hotel Group a success.
And if his legendary attention was feeling a little strained these days, well, that was the trade-off for the level of financial security he desired.
Roman guided Ava to the glass doors that led out to the deck, which had a private pool and hot tub. Under an overhang, wooden deck chairs with cushions in gold and blue surrounded a round patio table.
“Wow,” Ava breathed, as Roman opened the doors to reveal the last moments of a stellar sunset. She drifted over to the railing as if pulled by the sun’s gravity. “Nowthatis a view.”
His phone buzzed before he could reply. It was his assistant, Camille Price, aka the Keeper of the Schedule, as his younger sister, Mikayla, called her. Camille was responding to the “cancel the car” text he’d sent from the bar.
Camille:What’s going on?
Roman:I’m sticking around the hotel a little longer. Having dinner.
Camille:Do you want me to reschedule the driver for a specific time?
Roman:No, I’ll do it when I’m ready to go.
Camille:You have an early meeting tomorrow with your editor.
Roman:As if you’d let me forget.
Camille:That’s what I’m here for.
Roman:Enjoy your night. I’ll check in tomorrow.
When Roman looked up from his phone, Ava was watching him. The sunset silhouetted her curves, gilding her with the sun’s final rays. Her hazel eyes nearly glowed, and she was so beautiful, she made his breath catch.
No, he certainly hadn’t planned on her. But now that he’d found her, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.
“So you’re a teacher?” he asked, standing next to her again as the sun dipped below the horizon.
