“Would you like a blanket?” Her face is perfectly impassive, not a sign of anything untoward, but it’s quite obvious that our field trip to the lavatory didn’t go wholly unnoticed.

“No, thank you. I think we’re fine now.”

The flight attendant nods and walks off. I look to Elle, not sure where this is going to rank on her scale now, but instead of mortification, she’s fighting back giggles.

“Oh, we are so busted.”

I find that I don’t care in the slightest.

Chapter 21

Colton

“Welcome home,” the officer on duty says as he hands me back my passport. “No place quite like it, eh?”

There isn’t . . . and that’s why my hands shake as I tuck my passport away. This is the beginning of a new phase for me, a sign of success to return to the fold of home a changed man. No, an improved man.

I’ve missed the rolling countryside, the bustle of downtown, and my family. Or at least some of them. I can’t wait to hug Lizzie and Nan, at least.

But bringing Elle here means I’m letting her see more of me than she’s ever known. She’s going to see the good, the bad, and the ugly, as they say. I only hope that I haven’t misjudged her and that she can handle it.

Elle emerges from the immigration office with her bags, taking a deep breath as she breathes in the air. “Ah, London.” Then her nose crinkles in disgust. “It kinda smells like car exhaust.”

I chuckle. “Well, we are at the airport. Maybe try again once we’re a bit further out.”

She agrees and follows me out of the airport proper. I’ve been here dozens of times before and know exactly where I’m going, so I’m keeping a quick clip. Elle, however, is dawdling behind me, looking around at everything.

“Have you traveled much?” I ask, trying to hurry her along a bit. While I want her to enjoy and see everything, we do have work to do.

“Some, but nothing like this. Dad would take me on work trips sometimes, and we went on vacations. But never outside the US. Oh, except for the time we went to Cancun.” The thought of Elle lounging on a sandy beach in a tiny bikini is an appealing one. Perhaps we’ll go there someday.

“I’m the opposite, I suppose. I’ve been all over Europe but went to the US for the first time to interview with Fox.”

We make our way to the VIP area and see a black-suited man holding up a sign with my name. “I’m Colton Wolfe.”

He dips his chin in polite greeting, introducing himself as Oliver before he takes Elle’s suitcase, leading us to a black Rolls Royce Ghost. All business, he has us situated in the back and merges into traffic with ease.

From her new vantage point, Elle oohs and ahhs quite literally as the city is revealed to us. “What’s that?”

Oliver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, silently asking if I’d like to answer or if he should. I blink, and he delves into what amounts to a city tour for Elle on the way to the hotel.

I appreciate his care and involvement with Elle for the moment as nerves begin to snarl in my mind, making me useless as a tour guide.

I haven’t seen Mum, Dad, or Nan in years, and especially not Eddie. Only Lizzie, and even then, it’s been a while.

Of course, I’ve kept in contact with everyone, each in their own way. Nan and Lizzie I call, Mum less frequently. Dad and Eddie are more the rare and family business-only email types, which is probably best, especially with Eddie. We’ve had enough rows that I don’t need to start a new one every time I see his face.

And that’s the problem. This won’t be an easy reunion, especially since it will be coupled with my introducing Elle to the thermite grenade that is my family.

Oliver stops the car smoothly in front of The Rosewood. It’s one of London’s most luxurious hotels, situated in High Holburn. Elle’s head is leaned back, looking from the arched entryway up the columned second story to the tall tower. “Wow,” she breathes.

“This way, ma’am.” Oliver helps Elle out, and I tell him that I’ve got it from here. He will be on-call for us for the entirety of the week, so he hands me a sleek black card with his number, instructing me to call anytime, day or night, for anything at all.

We head through the archway and into a beautiful courtyard. Elle’s hand grips my bicep where she’s got her hand laced through my arm like we’re the prince and princess. To think, a few hours ago, we were fucking in the washroom.

I can’t help but smile at the contrast. She is truly versatile, and while at first glance, she might seem a rather simple woman with simple desires, I’m finding her to be complex and deep. Even if she can gasp with child-like wonder at a beautifully artistic marble staircase.

The suite has her running around like a child again, holding up feather pillows on the couch and shoving an entire macaron in her mouth in one go before flopping onto one of the beds. Crumbs fall out a little as she says, “I’m in heaven. Actual heaven.”

“Not sure what a naughty girl like you is going there,” I joke dryly.

Her middle finger pops up along with her head. “Well, being naughty got me here, and that’s basically the same thing.” She looks around again, her eyes wide.

She kicks her feet crazily in the air and then sits up as if it never happened, tucking them underneath her. Her eyes are crystal clear, pinning me in her gaze.

“Okay, spill it.”

I flinch, but only on the inside. My face shows zero reaction to her words, but perhaps that’s a tell itself? “What do you mean? You’re ready to get to work?” I pray that’s what she’s getting at.

“Yes, work. But first, what’s the deal here? I know good and well that this is the suite you had me book, but I had no idea it was this swanky. This” —she gestures around the room— “is most definitely not included in Mr. Fox’s per diem for this trip. Neither is the Oliver-in-waiting-Rolls. So, what’s up? Tell me that and then we’ll talk work.”

Ah, but they are one and the same, though I’m not prepared to tell her that piece of the puzzle just yet. But I can start with small steps to the horror that awaits.

“I thought you’d enjoy a bit of posh. Seems I was correct, given your dance around the room.”

She points at me as I sit down beside her on the bed. “That wasn’t a dance. And you’re avoiding the question.”

Smart girl. Ball busting girl.

A bit of careful truth seems prudent. “Much as your father keeps track of you, my family is likely already aware that I’m in London. They’ll want to see me, and I want to see some of them.”

“Lizzie?” she guesses correctly.

“Yes, and Nan. I’ll admit that much as you wish to show Daniel that you are independent, I wish to show my family that I’m successful.”

“Black sheep. You weren’t kidding?” Her voice is soft, more sensitive than most would be to a poor little rich boy.

I grit my teeth, wishing I didn’t have to tell her the truth of my family. “My family follows the theory of not needing ‘the spare’. I have an older brother, the golden child, and am therefore an unnecessary addition.”