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The master bedroom was the last stop on our tour. By then, I was in awe of our home. Oliver pushed open the thick wooden door to reveal a large, airy room with high ceilings. The walls were painted powder blue, almost the same color as my bridesmaid dresses.
One wall faced the ocean and was made entirely of glass sliders that led out to a large terrace with white wicker furniture and floral cushions. My head spun with the beauty of everything, and I felt my eyes sting with tears.
"Don't cry, sweetheart," Oliver said, his voice gentle.
"I'm happy. These are happy tears," I replied, smiling through the tears.
"Wait until you see the bathroom," he said with a twinkle in his eye.
He led me to a closed door, pushing it open to reveal the same white décor as the other bathrooms, but with one exception—a massive oval marble tub large enough to seat eight.
"That's not a tub, it's a swimming pool," I exclaimed.
"I hope to share it with you. I had all your favorite bath products stocked," he said, his smile tender.
"You think of everything," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion.
He swiped at my tears with his thumbs and kissed me on the tip of my nose. When we came out of the bathroom, I took a flying leap onto the huge bed that was much larger than a regular king-size bed. It was soft and inviting. I kicked off my shoes and curled up on my side, feeling completely at home. Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked my hair.
Oliver's eyes softened as he gazed at me, concern etching his features. "Would you like to sleep?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.
I stifled a yawn, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over me. "I need a nap," I admitted, rubbing my eyes. "The two hours on the plane wasn't enough."
He nodded, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I can leave you," he offered. "I have a few things to check on."
My eyes narrowed suspiciously as I turned to face him. "You aren't doing any work, are you?" I asked, a hint of accusation in my tone.
Oliver held up his hands defensively. "It's not work," he assured me. "I want to make sure everything was done to my specifications, and I need to give the staff instructions."
"For what?" I pressed, curiosity piquing despite my fatigue.
"Meals, drinks, cleaning," he listed, ticking them off on his fingers.
I sighed, exasperated. "We can figure a lot of that on our own."
Oliver's jaw tightened slightly. "They're here to work. It's what I pay them for."
"What we pay them for," I corrected pointedly.
He paused, then tilted his head. "Excuse me, Mrs. Fox. What we pay them for," he amended. "I'd also like to brief security. They'll be monitoring the property twenty-four seven."
A flicker of unease passed through me. "Are you expecting something?"
Oliver's expression remained neutral. "Not at all, but it helps to be diligent. We're wealthy, and you never know when someone would like to exploit that."
I decided to change the subject. "What plans do you have for me today?"
He feigned innocence. "I'm not sure what you mean."
I rolled my eyes. "It's my birthday. You expect me to believe you have nothing planned?"
A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "That's my business."
"Jerk," I muttered, fighting a smile.
Oliver leaned in, pressing his lips to my cheek in a deliberately sloppy kiss before rising from the bed. "Sleep, baby," he murmured. "I'll wake you later."
I yawned, nestling deeper into the plush pillows. "I love you," I mumbled, my eyes already drifting closed.
