“Okay, so that was Killian Axelrod, right? Somebody said he just looks like him, but he’s identical!” someone said, her voice somewhere between a scream and a squeal.
“I know!” Skye agreed. “It’s gotta be him!”
“Or his secret clone,” another author said from behind me.
I smiled, but I was sure I looked nervous. Lucy and Skye would be more circumspect, especially since Lucy understood I wanted to keep things discreet, but the other authors? I’d hate to have them track him down and post pictures of him all over the internet.
“Why would a rock star read romance?” Almost immediately after I said it, I realized how silly I was being. Killian had asked me to marry him. It wasn’t the kind of thing I could hide forever. “It’s a long story.”
“We love long stories,” Skye said.
“Yes, we do.” There was a chorus of voices, everyone’s eyes eager.
“Okay, fine. We met. And we spent some time together. You know. Romance takes its course,” I said with a shrug.
“There’s gotta be more to it than that!” Skye said.
“Just use your imagination,” I said, then quirked an eyebrow to let her know I’d talk to her later.
I didn’t think she understood my sub-rosa message, because she looked at me like I’d gotten all the bars in town shut down. I then remembered I’d told Killian I’d see him after the signing was over. “I gotta go.”
Skye gave Lucy a significant look. “She’s gotta go hook up.”
“No! I have an appointment I can’t miss.” I grabbed my purse and started running before they followed me out. I waved. “I’ll call you,” I added, praying they’d get the hint.
When I was out in the hall, I scanned the area for Killian but couldn’t spot him anywhere. Was he late? Had he left?
No, a man who’d taken out ads like that wouldn’t just leave. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom or something. I wished I’d gotten his number when he asked me to sign the book…except that would’ve been super weird.
“Ms. Breckenridge?” a man in a suit said. A golden pin with his name—Piers Mathieson—and division—Concierge—shone on the lapel of his suit.
“Yes?” I said, wondering what he wanted me for. Had Lucy and Skye sent a gift to congratulate me for topping the chart? But wouldn’t it have been more efficient for this man to leave it in my room instead of tracking me down?
“Mr. Axelrod requested that I relay a message: that he is waiting for you on the rooftop garden terrace.”
“Oh.” For a second I was disappointed he hadn’t come in person, then shook myself mentally. Did I want people staring and asking me if they were seeing the Killian Axelrod? No, I did not.
“This way, if you please.” The man led me to the elevator, stuck his card key into the security slot and hit the RGT button. “Enjoy your time, Ms. Breckenridge.”
“Thank you,” I said as the doors closed.
The car moved smoothly to the top floor, not making a single stop along the way. I licked my lips, then clasped my slightly damp hands together. Nerves fluttered in my belly. I still couldn’t believe Killian had asked me to marry me at the signing. Actually, I couldn’t believe he even attended it. By all accounts, Killian loathed airplanes, and it was a long flight from Virginia to San Francisco.
I wiped my hands on my jeans, not wanting to appear overly nervous or anxious. Even though we’d parted after an ugly fight, the only response that popped into my head when I saw his proposal was a resounding yes. It had taken all my willpower to hold back and ask him to talk to me later.
But I wanted to know why he was proposing after saying all those hurtful things. What made him change his mind? I wanted to make sure we were both on the same page before we committed to something as huge as marriage. I might be cynical about romance in real life, but that didn’t mean I wanted my relationship with Killian to fail.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the huge garden. The lawn was lush and soft. Pink roses in full bloom twisted around twin arches. But it was the sight of an endless sea of flowers that stunned me. The air was heavy with their sweet fragrance, and I walked into the middle of it, where Killian stood by a table set for two, waiting.
He looked brilliant under the sun, his hair slightly messy, his blue eyes focused and determined. Although he was smiling, his jaw was set in a resolute line.
My knees grew weak, but I managed to remain standing, breathing shallowly. God, I was so nervous. And hopeful.
“Emily.” His raspy voice sent shivers down my back.
“Hi,”
I said, unsure how to start.