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“Any recommendations I make are for your own safety. I am discreet and professional and will try to respect your wishes as much as possible, unless they contradict your safety.”

“Got it,” I said. “Do you speak French?”

“Oui, Mademoiselle Fontaine.”

I asked her a few more questions, testing her range and fluency before finally saying,“Très bien.”

That would certainly be useful when we spent time in the Loire Valley, and I was grateful that Graham had thought to request a bodyguard with that skill.

I thought back to my conversation with Graham at the airport. I didn’t think we’d said anything incriminating. But now that I knew Willow spoke French, we’d need to be more careful.

My phone buzzed on the counter, an incoming call from Jo. Willow told me to text if I needed anything before letting herself out.

I debated answering Jo’s call, but I didn’t know what to say. Last night, when I’d returned to our suite, I’d made sure that I looked a little disheveled. And then I’d told her that Graham wanted to spend more time with me, so he’d invited me to LA.

She’d been surprised but excited, especially when I’d mentioned that he was throwing a party and she was invited. That part was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. The party was our surprise wedding.

Jo followed up her call with a text.

Jo: What am I supposed to wear to this party in LA? I don’t have anything super fancy.

Me: Don’t worry. We’ll go shopping when you get here.

My shoulders slumped. I hated that I was lying to my best friend. And I was going to have to fess up sooner rather than later, but I’d been stalling while I tried to figure out what the heck to say. But also, afraid she’d try to talk me out of it.

It was so strange to be back in Graham’s penthouse. Strange, yet familiar. The living room was such a contrast, with the large panel of windows that opened to a huge terrace with an incredible garden. I wandered outside, stunned by the lushness and variety of it. Flowers. Vegetables. Fruits.

Every inch of space was maximized, but it wasn’t crowded. It was impressive, and I wondered how big of a team of gardeners Graham had to manage this.

I lingered a moment longer before returning inside to explore some more. The furniture and decor were all very high-end but also comfortable, inviting. It was a bit like Graham—it seemed moody and brooding at first, but once you got closer, you realized that there was so much more than what met the eye.

Details were scattered throughout, and I leaned in to inspect an antique key with a plaque. Apparently, it had once belonged to the former palace that had been converted into the Huxley Grand Abu Dhabi. Gold-framed black-and-white pictures hung on the wall. Images of Graham’s family. His grandparents. A couple with three young children. I smiled as I studied the photo, easily selecting Graham as the grumpy-looking one with a mop of curly hair.What a cutie.

I continued down the hall to the guest room, smoothing my hand over the silky duvet. The room was so gorgeous. So opulent. It felt like staying at a luxury hotel, like one of the Huxley Grand locations.

And when I peeked my head in the bathroom, I smirked. The shower was stocked with Huxley Grand shampoos and conditioners. A Huxley Grand candle in the hotel’s signature scent rested on the counter.

It was certainly a huge step up from my bathroom at the château. I smiled to myself, wondering how Graham would react to those conditions. I supposed if marriage was a compromise, we were both about to make some accommodations.

* * *

The following day,Jo arrived in LA. She’d checked in at the Huxley Grand LA—courtesy of Graham. And I’d invited her over to his penthouse so I could break the news about my wedding.

“Wow. This place is insane,” Jo said, taking it all in. Queen V and Prince Albert trotted up to her, and she let them sniff her hand before petting them.

“Gorgeous, right?” I asked.

“Definitely. Not as cold as I’d expected. And these magnificent beasts—” She peered down at Queen V. “Aren’t you a pretty girl? Yes, you are.”

I laughed, though there was a nervous edge to it. We were off to a good start, but I had no idea what she was going to think of the fact that I was marrying Graham in less than twenty-four hours. I still wasn’t quite sure what I thought of it myself.

“Have you been comfortable at the Huxley Grand LA? Is your room okay?”

“That hotel is incredible. And the service, ugh.” She held a hand to her chest. “They gave me a suite. I’m being treated like a princess. If these are the perks of you dating Graham, then I am all for it.”

That was a relief, even if I knew she was teasing. But I was grateful to Graham for treating my best friend so well.

“And how would you feel about me marrying him?” My heart was pounding.