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“I want to take you to London tonight.”
I tilted my head to one side, wondering what his game was. “Is that so?”
“Yes. I’m going to have Elliot drive us, and from there, the night is entirely yours. We can have dinner at The Dorchester, or if you would prefer I can take you to The Royal Albert Hall. I have a private box there.” He gave my bottom a delicious squeeze and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my lips. “Have you ever been inside Tiffany’s at night? The jewels are exquisite in the moonlight. Maybe I can buy you diamonds that won’t end up buried in your garden.” His words tantalised me but I couldn’t help but wonder at the motives behind them. Everything with Alfie was a multi-layered affair.
“Why?” I asked. He caressed my cheek with his thumb, the small touch sending tingles of delicious pleasure down my spine.
“I want to spoil you, Lola. You’ve earned it.”
“Earned it? You think that’s what I was doing last night? Earning my way into your wallet?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice soft and even. I wasn’t going to start another argument. I absolutely refused.
Alfie’s brow furrowed as he recalculated. “Alright, let me try this again. Lola O’Connell, I want to give you the whole fucking world. Today, anything you want, anywhere you want to go, any experience you want to have, just say it and it’s yours.”
My breath caught. I thought of what he was offering me. It was life changing.
“Anything?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. One day, I swore it to myself, I would see him smile without trying to hold it back.
“Anything. Just ask.” He stood as still as a statue, waiting for me to deliver my rider, my wish list. His gaze slowly turned suspicious as my face broke out into a devilish grin.
This was going to be so much fun.
Forty-Seven
I’d discovered something new about Alfie Tell. He hadn’t watched a film in over twenty years.
“Dumbo? Dumbowas the last film you ever saw?” I was sitting on the arm of an armchair, tucking into one of the many desserts I’d ordered from the service menu. My gorgeous man was sitting on the plush couch, holding the remote as if it might explode and flicking through the movie channels with a frown on his face.
“Call me crazy, Lola, but I don’t particularly enjoy laying sedentary for several hours with my brain switched off.”
“You’re crazy.” I grinned and spooned another dollop of ice-cream into my mouth. He looked over at me. His expression feigned annoyance but his eyes danced with amusement. I held out my spoon, offering him some ice-cream, but he just grimaced and turned back to the screen.
“I don’t know how you can eat like that. You’ll give yourself heart disease.” I responded by picking a cherry from the gateaux on the dessert trolley and throwing it at him. It missed him by a mile. “I suppose hand-eye coordination isn’t your strong suit?”
“You suppose correctly. Now hurry up and choose something.”
Alfie had looked shocked when I’d turned down his offer of dinner and diamonds for ice-cream and sweet kisses. At first he’d tried to persuade me, even gotten annoyed when I’d ordered a bunch of desserts and he’d realised I was serious. I’d told him to just relax and so of course he’d stood around as stiff as a board until eventually I’d placed the remote in his hand. His mood hadn’t improved much. He’d been scrolling for ten minutes, his features set in grim distaste as he flicked through chick flicks and action films.
“Remind me again why I’m watching a film with you instead of fucking you senseless?”
“Because it’s what couples do. They eat crappy food and watch a crappy film and then go to bed too tired and lethargic to have crazy, passionate sex.” I spooned another mouthful of gooey chocolate ice-cream into my mouth.
“That sounds awful.”
“Okay, Mr Serious, what would you rather do?” I asked as I went in for another spoonful of ice-cream. He was silent for a beat and when I looked up I found his eyes on me.
“Come here.”
The ice-cream quickly melted in my mouth and I gulped it down. “I thought we were going to watch a film.”
Without looking at the screen, he picked up the remote and pressed select at random. The opening credits ofDie Hardbegan to play. He muted it and tossed the remote onto the glass coffee table.
“Come here, Lola,” he repeated, his eyes flashing with excitement as he waited to see what I would do. This was one of Alfie’s favourite parts—the build up, the chase. He was in his element. I stood and placed my half-finished ice cream on the dessert trolley.
“Bring it with you,” he commanded. I raised my brows in light-hearted curiosity. Whatever Alfie was about to do, I knewI was going to enjoy it and I practically skipped across the living room, coming to a stop in front of him.
He looked like a king in front of me, even in a t-shirt and sweatpants. He sat, arms draped over the back of the couch, appraising me as if I was an offering, a new jewel for his trove, a new addition to his harem. I placed the ice cream on the glass coffee table and turned to face him.
“Take that off,” he instructed, his eyes flickering over the shirt I wore. I wondered if I would ever stop being nervous about revealing my body to him. I forced the insecurity back into the shallow pits of my stomach and whipped the shirt over my head. I held it in a ball in front of me before letting it drop to the floor. He nodded his approval and I couldn’t help the small twinge of happiness I felt at knowing I’d pleased him.