“Mr. Wilder. How can I help you and your beautiful new bride-to-be?” he asked.
“I need to speak to your supervisor,” I said.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked.
“Yes. And I need to speak with them now. It’s not an issue with you. It’s… an issue with the room,” I said.
“Of course, Mr. Wilder. I’ll get her on the phone immediately.”
I tapped my foot and waited as I looked back at Andrea. She was stiff as a board. In an absolute trance with tears streaming down her cheeks. I wanted to go to her. All of me wanted to wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest. I had to admit, waking up with her in my arms had been fantastic. Feeling her softness against my chest was a feeling I hadn’t experienced with any woman in a very long time. But the last thing a woman like her would want at a moment like this was me touching her.
Shit.
“Mr. Wilder, this is Felicia Grant. How can I assist you?”
“Miss Grant, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Of course. How can I be of service?” she asked.
“I need you to check your logs and see if you see my name anywhere in them.”
“We have many logs. Is there one in particular you’re looking for?”
“I wish I could specify that, but I can’t. The night’s a little fuzzy and… you know how it goes.”
“Of course. You’ll have to give me a few minutes, but we can do a broad sweep through our logs, Mr. Wilder.”
“I’ll be here. Thank you very much. And if you could be so kind as to not inform Derek what you’re doing, I would really appreciate it.”
“Discretion is our utmost concern with situations like these. I’ll be back with you in a few minutes.”
She probably thought I had hired a damn prostitute or something, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want there to be any overlap between the possibility of a bribed front desk attendant and getting the truth. My eyes fell to the gold band again and I scoffed. A piece of tin was more like it. Not nearly the type of band I would have gotten for myself on such a special occasion as getting married.
I could only imagine the cheap piece of crap that was on Andrea’s finger.
I looked back at her again and saw her glancing down at her finger. She wiggled it around and I saw something shiny catch the light of my bathroom. Fuck. She really did have a ring on her finger. And judging by the pathetic landscape of light it refracted, it was the cheapest ring alive. I saw her wipe her face before she turned her back to me and a part of my heart broke. She was distraught, and here I was trying to figure out whether or not we had actually done the stupidest thing imaginable while in Vegas.
I needed to be comforting her. Not on the damn phone with someone.
I watched her turn on the water and splash some in her face. She cupped her hands and covered her face and neck in the cool substance. She stuck her lips underneath the faucet and chugged as quickly as she could. Like if she could ingest enough water, it would lift the haze over her mind and everything around her would change. She’d be in her own room, alone, with no ring on her finger and every recollection of what happened last night.
Electricity shot down my spine.
From what I could remember from last night, it had been fantastic. The feel of her against my skin. The way her body cradled mine effortlessly. How easy it was for her to open up herself to me and how wonderful it had been to command such beauty. Her curves. The softness of her skin. Just thinking about it made my cock harden against my jeans.
I turned my back to her to conceal the outline growing against my leg.
“Mr. Wilder?”
“Yes. I’m here,” I said.
“I have you in two logs from last night. One log is your marriage to Andrea Faith.”
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth as that word barreled over my ear again.
“And the other log is the honeymoon log.”
“The what?” I asked.