Page 24 of Beautiful Revenge

“I told you, I don’t need a suite?—”

His interruption doesn’t come in the form of words, but rather his touch. He wraps his hand around my shoulder. It’s innocent yet strong and firm. “I said I have a suite. It’s right next door. I live there.”

“You live here and work here?” I know that’s not important in the big scheme of things, but I do find it interesting.

The answer is obvious, so he ignores my question. “I have two extra rooms. If you really want to stay in Winslet, you can have one of them.”

My tears don’t threaten any longer.

They break through.

I turn on bare feet and tip my head back to look at him through blurry eyes. “Really?”

He shakes his head no, but his words don’t match his actions. “I can tell it’s important to you. So yes.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” I brush away the tears that fall down my cheeks. “I promise, you won’t even know I’m there.”

Devon narrows his eyes. “I doubt that.”

I lift my hand but stop myself before touching him. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I’ll pay you.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want your money, Harlow. Just ... hell. Try not to look sad. I can’t take it.”

“Oh.”

“And the tears ... fuck me,” he mutters. “It’ll be fine. I sleep and get ready there. We won’t even see each other.”

I bite my lip and nod. “I’ll stay out of your way. All I need is three weeks, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“Three weeks,” he echoes on an exhale. “Perfect.”

He doesn’t sound like anything is perfect, but I don’t care. If he offered me the supply closet, I’d take it.

He looks around at all my things like he already regrets his spur-of-the-moment offer. “Get packed. I’ll get you a room key and send someone to move your things.”

My smile is as wide as his frown is tight.

He turns on his fine leather loafer. I peer around the corner to watch him stalk out of my bedroom without another word. The moment I hear the suite door click shut, I run to my exploding suitcase and rip off my robe.

Devon threw me a lifeline.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this.

I have a new start.

I feel free.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SNOOP

Harlow

Chrissie raises her voice. “Stop right there. You’re sharing a room with a stranger?”

I pull the cell from my ear and wince. “No. I’m sharing a suite. I’ll have my own bathroom and bedroom. And Devon isn’t exactly a stranger—he was my bridal assistant. I had less privacy when I used to stay in hostels in college when my friends and I backpacked across Europe. I even have my own king-sized bed—not that I’ll need one anytime soon.”

“You’ve had a dry spell for the last six weeks. It’s amazing you managed to dodge Albert all that time. I’m just happy the damn wedding is behind us.”