Page 36 of The Marriage Deal
I blinked back, surprised at her astute guess.
"My god. You truly are a princess. You're not going to like where we are going. You're going to feel all the peas in the mattresses at the hotel you booked."
"Is it bad?"
"It's the best in town, actually. But don't expect the Plaza service. You're going to have to slum it with the plebs this time around." She chuckled and added. "And eat our food."
"I can eat anything that's served to me." I know I am a picky eater, but she made it sound as though I can't stomach a simple hotdog.
"Really? Is that why you always order food at The Fork?"
"I order there because cafeteria food is greasy and not to my taste." Also, the restaurant had the best food in town, but I wasn't going to tell her that. It would only prove her point.
"There you go," she said smugly.
"You sound like my brother."
"Which one?"
"The eldest. Nolan. He's a bit like you. Always quick to judge my tastes."
"I'm not judging them," she said, sliding down her seat and closing her eyes. "I like your taste. Like you, I hate flying commercial." A small smile spread across my lips. I liked making her happy. Now that I was no longer suppressing it, it felt good to show her how I felt. In small ways of course. If I overdo it, I might scare her away. She called me Professor Phantom, for chrissake. Whatever that meant, it could not be good. The only way to show her I had feelings for her I could think of now was materialistic. She was not a materialistic person in the slightest, but it was difficult to come up with anything that wasn't grand or overt that didn't make my feelings obvious, and right now, I could not risk being obvious.
"I never thanked you, by the way." She opened her eyes and gazed at me from her reclined seat. Her big eyes were the prettiest shade of brown. They were dark, almost black.
"For what?" I almost had trouble saying the words without stumbling on them like a lovesick teenager.
"The cafeteria incident. You didn't have to do that."
"It was your friend who exposed our marriage."
"But you came to my rescue before that."
"Did I? I thought I had only sat next to you, that's all."
"You've just called cafeteria food, some of the best mass-produced food I've tasted by the way, greasy. You weren't there that day because you like burritos."
I shrugged. "I thought I should give them a taste, you know. It was all pure coincidence."
She was on the money. I had seen Billie and Wyatt making their way to the cafeteria while I was on my way to lunch. Wyatt was saying they should no longer hide their relationship, and Billie said something about Elvira being there, which made Wyatt want to go even more. So, I just followed them a few feet away. When they deliberately chose to sit next to Elle and her friend, that's when I knew they had malicious intentions. They didn't care about people seeing them. They cared more about hurting Elle, and I couldn't take it anymore.
It was then that I realized I had feelings for her. Nothing crazy like love or like that, but I realized I had been suppressing my desire for her. I want her. I want to have sex with her. That night at the castle was tough for me to sleep through. While she snored like a content kitten, I twisted and turned in bed, itching to reach over and touch her. Kiss her. Make love to her. So after that, it was decided. Elle and I will start a relationship. She didn't know that yet. I haven't broached the subject, but at some point I have to, because I cannot take the constant semi-hardness every time I am in her presence.
"Uh huh? Well, thanks anyway. I kinda feel it's my fault you have to be dragged to a civil war outing because of it. I know how you hate American history."
"Don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. Your friend, on the other hand…"
The rest of the flight was uneventful, and we arrived in Pennsylvania in record time. Elvira was right. The hotel, the best one Thompson could find and had booked all of us in, was far from my expectations, but when it came to historical accuracy, it was quite good. It was a historically themed hotel with Greek Revival architecture and styled with Civil War era interior decor. A building that awed the group, but was nothing like I wasexpecting. Still, when Elle gave me the "I told you so" look, I said nothing while we were shown to our room.
It was a deluxe suite with pink and white nineteenth-century wallpaper, nineteenth-century oak furnishings, or at least styled to look so. Cream drapes, French doors that opened to a balcony, a couch with upholstery that matched the drapes, a centerpiece fireplace and a bed. One large bed.
I glanced around the suite. It was the only bed in the room. "I didn't know he would book a room with one bed," I said guiltily. If I were Thompson, it made sense to book a room with one bed, especially for a young 'married' couple such as us. I couldn't blame him.
Elle sighed.
"Is sleeping with me that bad? Some women would jump at the chance to do so."
"Well, I am not one of them. I'm going to call the desk and tell them to put us into a two-bed suite."
