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“Is someone on Polly now, while they’re shopping?”
“Affirmative. She didn’t bat an eye. She must assume it’s normal for you to have detail at all times.”
“Good. If she asks, I’ll tell her it’s the norm. Keep her safe. She’s the only priority.”
“Sir, I hate to disagree with you, but you’re our priority.”
“Fuck that. I can protect myself. If anything happens to Polly, I’ll have your heads.”
Mark nods, understanding in his eyes, and then the two men leave.
Two hours later, Polly and London return, carrying shopping bags with smiles on their faces.
“We’re back,” Polly announces and holds up a sack and a garment bag. “I got some loot.”
London frowns down at the floor, but Polly doesn’t notice. She hurries over to me and offers me her lips, which I happily kiss, before she steps away again.
“I have to run to the ladies’ room,” she announces before rushing off.
“What’s up?” I ask London. “It doesn’t look like she got much.”
“She didn’t,” London confirms. “She looked at a lot of beautiful things, but she just wouldn’t take the plunge. She ended up with a nice blouse and a scarf.”
I blink at her and scowl. “That’s it?”
“Yep.” London sighs. “I know there were bags and shoes she was practically salivating over. And when we went to Dior, there was a dress that would have been divine on her—was divine on her because I talked her into trying it on. But when she saw the price, she declined it.”
“Fuck,” I mutter and drag my hand down my face. “Okay. I’ll take her tomorrow.”
“You’ll have better luck with her,” London says. “And maybe she’s tired. It’s a long travel day, jet lag, and all that jazz.”
“You’re right.” I nod as Polly walks out of the bathroom.
“I’m hungry,” she announces. “When’s dinner?”
“We have reservations in,” I check my watch, “fifteen minutes. You two are just in time.”
“Should I change?” Polly asks.
“You look great,” London assures her. “No need to change.”
“Good.” Polly’s shoulders fall in relief. I can see the fatigue in her face. I would rather stay in, have room service, make love to her, and then sleep. But I know that she wants to spend time with our friends, too. Polly smiles at me. “Let’s go eat.”
“Now this is a breakfast,” Polly says the next morning after room service has set up the table and left us alone. “Are those chocolate croissants?”
“Yes.” I grin as I pour her coffee, add the cream and sugar she likes, and deliver it to her in bed. Then I put the croissant, some berries, and yogurt on a plate and bring it to her, as well.
“This china is gorgeous,” she says, holding the cup up so she can check it out. “So dainty and sweet.”
“I believe they sell it,” I reply and take a bite of my own croissant. “If you ever want some for yourself.”
“I’ll enjoy it here,” she says and bites into her pastry. She moans and closes her eyes, not unlike the way she did when I was inside of her less than an hour ago. “Jesus, the food here is so good.”
“French food is amazing,” I agree. “Do you want some scrambled eggs? Bacon? They brought a little of everything.”
“Bacon,” she agrees. “And more coffee. So, what are we doing today? I don’t think that any of the shows or parties start until tomorrow.”
I refresh our drinks and food and then decide to bring the whole table closer to the bed.
