Page 4

I grab a plate and snag a sausage and the last of the scrambled eggs and put two slices of bread in the toaster.

From the fruit bowl, I take a banana and two apples, and a pot of yogurt. I slip a teaspoon into my pocket. If I stock up now, then I won’t need to leave my room for lunch. Ordering room service for every meal is going to chew through my budget.

I choose a table in the corner, and a waitress stops by to pour the coffee.

I’m slathering my toast with butter when he walks in, the hunk of a man who saved me yesterday. The man I thought about when I was in the bath last night. There was a steamy scene in my book, and I placed it down and slid my hands up my thighs and fantasized about penetrating green eyes and inked hands that knew exactly how to handle a woman like me.

My mouth is suddenly dry, and I take a swig of coffee, but it’s too much, or I’m too distracted, because it goes down the wrong way and I cough into my fist. Not a delicate, ladylike cough, but a harsh bark that contorts my entire face. Toast crumbs scratch my windpipe, and I cough louder and harder.

So much for being discreet. When I look up, the man-God is standing in front of me, holding a glass of water. I accept it gratefully and try to say ‘thank you’ but it comes out as another cough, and bits of toast coat his hand.

Is this the new me? Set to humiliate herself in public for all eternity?

“Are you okay?” His voice is dark honey and more soothing than any amount of water.

I thump my chest with my fist and mumble an apology. I try to sink further into my chair, hoping he’ll leave me to be embarrassed in peace, but instead he pulls out the chair opposite me and sits down.

“I’m fine,” I mumble. “You don’t need to stay.”

He stares at me for a moment, long enough to make my cheeks heat for a different reason. Then he turns and calls to one of the staff.

“Bring another pot of coffee. And pastries from the kitchen, something sweet.”

The waitress glances at me, then back at the man, nods once, and heads to the kitchen.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

It’s a little too late as he’s already sitting down and has ordered breakfast, but I don’t point that out. I can barely speak under his watchful gaze.

Instead, I nod and sip my coffee. If I eat, I might choke again, and I really don’t want to cough up any more crumbs on him.

“I’m Axel.” He offers a hand. “This is my place.”

I reach for his hand on instinct, and he engulfs it in his. Warmth floods my body and energy zings up my arm, across my chest, and straight down my body, filling my belly with warmth and creating a tingle between my legs.

“I’m Ruby,” I answer before I realize what I’ve said. I draw my hand back in panic. “I mean, Elizabeth.”

Axel tilts his head, and a soft smile spreads across his face.

“Ruby.” He says it softly, and the tingle between my legs deepens into a throb.

What is it about this man that has my body behaving as if it wasn’t just humiliated in front of the entire internet?

I glance around the room, terrified that someone might hear. There’s no one in earshot, but the man packing away the buffet glances over, and so does the other waitress.

Near the door, a man in a dark suit stands in a stillness that can only mean he’s security.

Axel leans forward. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone your name if you don’t want me to.”

I relax a little. I believe him. Yesterday I thought he knew who I was, but now I’m not so sure. Which is reassuring and a reminder that not everyone is on social media or follows gossip magazines, and someone as sophisticated as Axel probably isn’t moving in the same circles that would serve him the video ‘Fat Chick Gets Humiliated.’

I shudder at the reminder and try to focus on the man in front of me. His calmness is reassuring, and I feel inexplicably safe with him. I’d love to tell him who I am and why I’m here, but I’m not ready to share.

“How are you enjoying your room?”

I swallow my coffee and try to pretend I’m used to gorgeous men across my breakfast table. “It’s fine. The views are nice.”

Nice is an understatement, but I’ve lost my ability to form big words. He doesn’t seem to notice.