Page 57 of Mr. London

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I told my family about Alex a day after coming home. At first, they were concerned, mainly about him being my boss and how this might affect my career. I told them how I, too, was concerned about that aspect of our relationship, but that, so far, it wasn’t an issue. My Dad and brothers seemed fine with that answer. However, Mom wasn’t so easily convinced.

“I don’t know, Katherine. I mean, the man is your boss. Your employer. And you’ve worked so hard to get where you’re at in your career.”

“I know, Mom, I know. Just trust me, okay? He’s the right man for me. I just know it.”

Mom sighed, then hugged me. “Alright, honey. I do trust you. You know I do. I just want you to be okay.”

“I know. And I am okay. Promise.” I squeezed her hand, reassuring her.

“So, when do I get to meet Mr. London?” Mom asked.

I laughed. “He’ll be arriving in Atlanta in a couple of days. I’ll bring him home then.”

“I’m happy for you, sweetie. And it’s great to have you back home, too.”

“It’s good to be back, Mom.” We both smiled, and hugged each other.

I was happy to be back home. I love Georgia. But the truth is, home is with Alex. He is my home now.

I speed down the interstate, trying to keep my foot off the gas. It was difficult not too, especially given the car I was driving, and the fact that I was heading to the airport to pick up Alex. I shivered in anticipation of seeing him.

The car I’m driving is beautiful – white exterior, black interior Nissan 350 Z. Sleek, modern, clean lines. It’s a blast to drive, even though it’s a few years old. It’s on loan to me from my brother Paul, who apparently bought it only a few weeks ago.

I arrive to Hartsfield-Jackson Airport two hours later, driving directly to the private jet arrival area. The Gulfstream has just landed, taxiing its way around the tarmac. The jet finally comes to a complete stop. I hop out of the Z, my heart pounding.

The airplane door opens and the stairs unfold. A few seconds later Alex is standing at the top of the stairs, the wind tousling his hair. We lock eyes, and in that moment my heart stops. Alex hurriedly walks down the stairs. I run to him, and finally, I’m in Alex’s arms.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I bury my face in the crook of his shoulder. Alex wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me. I bend my head down, bringing my face to his, and we kiss, a soft, gentle kiss. Our lips part, both of us catching our breath, our foreheads lightly touching.

“God, I missed you,” Alex breathes. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” I reply, the tears stinging my eyes. “It feels so good to be back in your arms.”

Alex pulls me in closer, embracing me in his strong arms. He buries his face in my hair, closing his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief.

We walk across the tarmac, hand in hand, towards the car. The pilot slowly maneuvers the jet away, making its way to the hanger.

“Nice car,” Alex says, smiling when he lays eyes on the Z.

“Thanks,” I reply, grinning. “I wanted to pick you up in style. I thought you’d like it,” I say, winking.

“I do.” Alex climbs into the passenger’s side as I slide into the driver’s seat.

Alex takes my hand, bringing it to his lips. I pull him close to me, run my hands through his dark brown hair, and whisper, “I can’t wait to tear your clothes off.”

“Mmm…..me too,” Alex replies, grinning.

“Let’s go,” I say, and put the car in gear, zooming off.

We make it to the Atlanta Cosmopolitan Hotel an hour later, the hotel manager awaiting our arrival. “Good evening, Mr. McCall,” the manager says, while nodding at me. We’re whisked away in a private elevator to the penthouse suite overlooking Atlanta, Georgia.

As we walk into the suite, my eyes land upon a bouquet of red roses in a beautiful glass vase sitting atop the living room coffee table. A bottle of champagne sits in a chilled ice bucket.

Alex takes my hand, and we sit down on the sofa in the living room. I bend down to smell the roses, their lovely, delicate scent wafting throughout the room.

“They’re gorgeous, Alex. Thank you,” I say, kissing his cheek.

“Not as gorgeous as you.”


Tags: Margot Scott Romance