Page 77 of Stronger Than Fate

—Iris Murdoch

Iarrived at the hotel at two in the morning. While I was waiting for the elevators, one of the receptionists on duty hurriedly approached me, and I looked at him fearfully, wondering if there was some problem at the hotel.

“Good evening, Miss Dukart.”

“Good evening, Blas. Is something wrong?”

“I have a message for you,” he said, smiling. “Although more than a message, I should inform you that there’s someone waiting for you in the lobby, though I’m afraid he’s fallen asleep.”

My pulse quickened. That person could only be Henry, but I couldn’t leave him there. I would have to gather my courage and face him.

“Thank you, Blas. I’ll take care of it,” I said, heading toward the lobby.

“Good night, Miss Dukart,” he greeted formally, as he always did.

When I spotted him asleep in one of the lobby armchairs, my heart softened. Seeing him like that and knowing he had been waiting for me for a long time filled me with tenderness. I didn’t know what time he had arrived at the hotel, but from his last message, I suspected it had been several hours ago. I sat downbeside him and took the opportunity to look at him carefully. He was sitting back against the chair with his head slightly tilted to one side. He was still wearing the same suit I had seen him in at his sister’s atelier, though he had removed his tie. It was a dark gray suit with a white shirt. His hair was slightly disheveled, and a shadow of stubble was already visible, which looked very sexy on him. Without realizing it, my hand moved toward his face and I caressed it gently. I barely touched him when he made a gesture with his mouth that resembled a smile.

“Henry?” I called softly, withdrawing my hand.

He slowly opened his eyes until they met mine. That blue color left me breathless. He straightened up immediately and looked around.

“You fell asleep in the hotel lobby.”

“What time is it?” he asked, a bit drowsy.

“A little after two.”

He looked at me with that gaze that made me feel naked whenever it fixed on me.

“You’re just getting back?”

“Yes, I was about to take the elevator when one of the receptionists told me you were here,” I replied.

“Where did you go?” he asked, looking at me attentively.

I couldn’t tell him that I’d been at Niky’s atelier all this time; I needed to come up with something convincing, but I wasn’t very good at that.

“I went out with some friends,” was all I could think of.

He lowered his head and ran his hand through his hair; it was evident that something was bothering him.

“I need to talk to you, Dalina,” he said, looking at me again. “You understand that we still have many things to say to each other, right?”

“I suppose so,” I responded.

“Can we go to your suite?”

“I’d prefer if we talked in the bar.”

“Why? I don’t think we should have this conversation surrounded by people and noise.”

“It’s because I don’t trust you,” I stated.

He looked at me and after a few seconds said:

“Could it be that you don’t trust yourself?”

“You might be right. I know I always become defenseless around you,” I confessed.