“Baby.” He continues to rub my back and kisses the crown of my head. “I’ll be right here for whatever you want and whatever you need.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
RAGTAG, MOTLEY CREW
Devon
Summer is thriving at the manor.
The wedding of the year that never was is behind us. The magazine that bought official rights to the event probably made more money than they would have had the bride and groom run off into the sunset together.
Lucky for me, they did not.
What they did get is the rights to a story so full of angst, they announced it was their biggest issue in years and had to print two additional runs.
A jilted groom.
Murder for hire.
A kidnapped billionaire. An MI6 agent rising from the dead. A tech guru in jail for treason, and so much more, I can’t keep track.
And in all of it, The Manor at Winslet shone like the big, beautiful fucking gem that she is. A guest who has a huge following on social media actually called usthe diamond of the west.
We’re booked solid for as far out as we’re accepting reservations and have a waiting list a mile long. I can’t hire a general manager soon enough. I have five interviews scheduled this afternoon.
It seems everyone wants to vacation here, but no onewants to move here. Good for the town of Winslet, I guess. They get to benefit from the additional revenue from the business I bring in, but the small-town population stays the same.
Plus one billionaire heiress.
Harlow closes on her grandmother’s house next week. She’s stuck with me for the time being since it’s uninhabitable. We haven’t even discussed it, but we just know. She’s here until she transforms the place. Her general contractor said it could take nine to twelve months.
That thought makes me happy.
I’ve never been with anyone where so much can go unsaid yet everything is fully understood.
It feels bloody good.
I carry the envelope that was delivered priority to the front desk in one hand and smack it with my other as I jog down the steps to the pool. Harlow is making up for lost time when she had to be locked away in my suite like a forsaken princess.
But not anymore.
She plays tennis every day, lounges by the pool, and if we don’t have dinner by the water, we’re in the Greenhouse.
But we never order too much food. The kitchen had a mix up once and gave her more sides than she ordered. I had to pretend I was still hungry and ate it all even though I fucking hate Brussels sprouts.
Which makes it official. I’ll do anything to make the woman happy.
She’s sitting on a lounge under a yellow and white striped umbrella reading a book. I barely come into view when her head pops up like she sensed me before she saw me.
Her smile shines brighter than the afternoon sun.
I hope it stays that way.
I park my arse next to her on the lounge. She pulls her shades off and peeks up at me from under her huge sun hat. “You actually left the confines of your office to see me. I feel special.”
I rip the hat off her head to lean in and kiss her. Her half-wet hair falls to her shoulders in a mess of waves. “Some of us have to work, baby.”
She hikes a brow. “Just so you know,I’m still on my honeymoon. I worked like hell so I could take some time off. I’ll be back at it next week.”