Page 22 of Gilded

MALIA

W hen I wake, I’m instantly anxious, but I don’t know why.

Then the languid sensation in my body brings back the thrill of Luka’s talented mouth. I smile and flush, covering my face with my hands.

But the thrill doesn’t last long because the sensation of waking alone drags me down. As does his presence in my father’s office. An office I know from experience is always locked.

The way we spoke across space without words makes my chest tighten. I never imagined having that kind of connection with someone.

I don’t care what Luka might find in the office, but I do worry about how that could affect me, because I always seem to get blamed for things around here. No doubt I’ll catch a backhand when the guards tell my father I was in his office and lied about why I was there.

That’s a mood crusher.

I roll to where Luka was lying and press my face to the pillow. “Mmm.”

Then I roll onto my back, pulling the pillow with me, breathing him in. God, how I wish life were different. I wish he had the leverage to take me from Soren. I wish I understood more about men and sex and relationships. I wish I didn’t have to leave Luka so soon.

I toss the pillow aside and stare at the ceiling with tears blurring my vision. The closer the wedding gets, the more desperate I become. Desperate enough to ask a stranger to marry me. So embarrassing. I should have thought before I spoke.

I reach for my phone where I hid it between the mattress and the box spring, hoping to find a message from Luka, but there’s nothing.

I shower and pull on old jeans and a T-shirt and wander toward the living room with a strange longing to set my eyes on him.

To try to get a read on him after last night.

What greets me is a buffet of food. Platters of muffins, pastries, and fruit, but the table is set for one, and my shoulders drop.

Gwen comes out of the kitchen and stops when she sees me. “Oh, you’re awake. Wonderful. I’ll bring your breakfast.”

“Is there going to be some kind of meeting this morning?”

“No, ma’am. Mr. Arias asked us to have breakfast ready for you because you didn’t eat much yesterday. I’ll be right back.”

Mr. Arias? That has to be Luka. I’m surprised to realize I didn’t even know something as basic as his last name after we’ve known each other for weeks.

After we’ve been so intimate. Then I remember hearing women talk about something they call hookups.

Where they have sex with someone one time and often never even know their first name, let alone their last.

Gwen returns with an omelet of some kind, bacon, hashbrowns, and toast. I can’t even make a dent in the mounds of food she sets down on the table.

“A veggie omelet. His special request. He’s worried about you not eating enough.”

“Thank you. Did he say he’d be here for breakfast?”

“No, ma’am. He left the island. I’ll be right back.”

I watch Gwen disappear into the kitchen again, my heart in my stomach. I must have done something wrong. I thought we’d broken through another wall last night.

“Obviously not.” I sit and pick up a piece of bacon. I have no appetite, but I really do need to eat something.

Gwen returns with a box as big as her smile. “He sent this.”

She sets the box on a chair beside me because the table is too full.

She’s clearly excited, but I stare at the box, not sure what to think. The last time I received clothes, it was from Soren, and he opened my suite door and threw them on my sofa. No bags, no tags, no manners.

Luka may not be Soren, but I’m not sure I want whatever is in this box.

I wipe my hands and pick up the note left on the box.

I’ll meet you at the Pier 6 helipad at 8:00

Well, that’s as bland as it gets. Disappointment digs a little deeper. I’d forgotten about the cocktail party tonight. I usually look forward to getting out and talking to people, but none of this feels exciting anymore.

I set down the card, untie the bow, and lift the cover. Gwen takes it from me while I part the tissue paper, and red sequins glimmer up at me.

Gwen gasps.

I lift the dress by the shoulder straps, half dreading the style. But when the beaded hem touches the floor, all my air whooshes out.

It’s gorgeous. And simple. A mermaid-meets-A-line look. Double straps at the shoulder continue over an open back. No deep V in the front. Enough exposure in the back to be sexy. Not a hint of slutty. This dress is all elegant sophistication.

“Oh, you’ll look gorgeous in it. Red is the perfect color for you.” Gwen claps her hands before picking up a velvet wrap in the same color, then shoes I didn’t see tucked into the corner of the box. A classic stiletto pump in sparkly silver. “Perfect. It’s all perfect.”

I smirk at her. “Do you think it’s perfect?”

She playfully slaps my arm.

“You like him, don’t you?” I ask Gwen as I replace the dress in the box.

“He’s a nice man. Polite. Understanding. Reasonable.”

“Unlike the other men in this house.”

Gwen looks around before she says, “Exactly.”

I look at the dress again. My first instinct is to be annoyed that yet another man is telling me how to dress. If he hadn’t left me last night or bailed from the island this morning, I might see these as a gift. Right now, I’m seeing them as a very strong suggestion.

“I’m going back to my room.”

“You haven’t eaten anything. I’ll bring the omelet to your room with the dress.”

I sigh. “Sure. Why not?”