Page 26 of Vengeful Vows
“Is there anything in particular that you’d like to do while you’re here?”
Slowly I turn to him. “Well, since you told me to live a little, I’ve heard there’s a cupcake dispenser at the Royal Sterling Hotel that has some of the most amazing flavors ever put together.” I mentally shake my head. With all the amazing things Sin City has to offer, I want a pastry from something that resembles an ATM?
“Your wish will be my command. Tonight, even.”
I laugh. “I was blue-skying. We don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’re wanting to experience other things.” Maybe seeing a show or gambling. I blink. Until now, I hadn’t considered that he’d spend his time doing that. But he strikes me as a man who enjoys high-stakes games.
“The one thing I’d like to do, we won’t.”
The way he sweeps his approving gaze over me makes my blood heat.
The bellhop emerges from Marcello’s room and asks if there’s anything else she can do for us.
“Let me get the tip,” I say, opening the clasp of my purse.
“No, ma’am. Thank you.”
Scowling at me, Marcello shakes his head.
Though I’m perplexed, I drop my hand.
“Thank you…” He glances at the woman’s name tag. “Natalie.”
“Please let me know if you require anything else.”
Within seconds, we’re alone again.
“Natalie has been assigned to take care of us,” he explains. “She’s much more than a bellhop. Think of her as our concierge, available to do the physical things that Sir Percival cannot. Natalie is available to shop, to help you dress, select your outfits, arrange our outings. I assure you she is well compensated for her services. Even if she wasn’t”—he lowers his voice as he levels a hard stare at me—“it’s my place to handle financial matters.”
“No.” Furiously I scowl. “You need to understand that I have pride, Marse.”
He folds his arms as if entirely unconcerned.
“I know you’re wealthy.” I scoff.Wealthy?That’s an understatement. “Probably with more money than God and Midas put together, but I want to pay for some things.”
“Do you?”
I all but stamp my foot. “Yes.”
“Too fucking bad.”
My mouth falls open.
“When you’re with me, you’re my woman. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t mention money again.”
There is a gleam in his eyes that tells me how deadly serious he is. When he’s determined, I can’t fight him. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes.” Men like Marse have a different set of rules than the rest of us mere mortals, evidently.
“Apology accepted.”
Feeling slightly foolish, I cross to the bar to pick up the beverage he’s poured for me. I take a sip and find it’s tart, just the right amount of lime. “This is perfect.”
“I’m glad it pleases you.” He’s poured one of his own, and he lifts the glass in acknowledgment of me.
“I’m guessing this is your apartment? Or rather, that it belongs to your company?”
“No.”
His answer takes me aback. “It’s not?”