“You can be anything you want to be, honey,” Ella answers. “A ballerina or an astronaut or a Prime Minister. It just takes hard work and dedication.”
“A Prime Minister like Uncle James?”
I frown. “Not like Uncle James. You’d have some integrity.”
It’s probably for the best that she’s too young to know what I’m talking about. Also probably for the best that Ella knows exactly what I’m talking about, so she quickly changes the subject.
“Should we demonstrate for your dad what you’ve learned so far?” she asks, a wide radiant smile spreading across her face at Isla’s obvious enthusiasm.
“Yeah! Watch this, Dad!”
I clap and cheer and act like it’s the very first time I’ve seen each position even though I’ve been standing here watching the entire lesson. Isla is genuinely happy, and her sweet laughter bounces off the mirrored walls as they finish the demonstration.
“You’re a natural,” I say, walking over to give her a hug before opening my arms even wider to include Ella. “You both looked absolutely perfect.”
It’s the truth.
They both looked perfect because they both are perfect. I’ve known that Ella was great with Isla for a while, but until today—until right this second, really—I’ve never stopped to think about how big a part of our lives she’s become.
Maybe I should stop spending so much energy denying my attraction to her. Maybe instead, I follow Stellan’s advice and put that energy into enjoying my time with Ella while it lasts.
If my marriage with Kinsley has taught me anything at all, it’s that happiness is fragile and fleeting, and none of us can predict what tomorrow might bring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ELLA
The California sun is blinding me as I step off Keir’s private jet, but the heat feels so good against my skin that I can’t complain.
“We don’t get much of this back in Glasgow.” Saffron shades her eyes as she stumbles down the stairs behind me. “I haven’t decided whether I love it or hate it.”
Keir leaves the plane last, giving his sister a nudge once we reach the tarmac. “You have to admit it’s a nice change of pace. Can’t say I’d want to live here, though.”
I smile to myself at their grumbling. After spending so many weeks around Keir and his relatives in Scotland, I’ve learned that a little good-natured complaining is basically a family tradition. It’s when they don’t have anything at all to say that I start to worry.
“I think it’s great,” I say as we pile into the waiting SUV. “I’m really looking forward to laying out by the pool and getting a tan while we’re here.”
Saffron and Keir both wrinkle their noses in a look that’s nearly identical. “Sounds insufferably boring,” Keir grumbles.
I exchange a knowing glance with Saffron, and she starts to snicker. “Isla said the same thing to me—almost word for word—the last time she stayed over at my house.”
Keir glares at her, which makes it impossible for me to hold in my laughter. “Welcome to my world. I hear it at least once a day from one of them.”
Now he’s glaring at me, too. If his sister wasn’t here, I’d climb into his lap and kiss that grumpy look away. For now, I have to settle for a quick peck on his cheek while Saffron turns to look out the window.
“At least one of us is in a good mood,” Keir says, the corners of his mouth turning up into what could almost be considered a smile. “I guess we’ll have to play nice since we’re on your home turf now, huh?”
“Well, I’m more of an East Coast girl,” I shrug. “But I hope we all have a good time while we’re here. I’m really looking forward to meeting your friend.”
I don’t know much about Deacon Masters, but I’m hopeful that he’ll have the same effect King Stellan and Queen Margot had on Keir while we were in Paris. Seeing him kick back and relax with his friends was really nice, especially with all the stress he’s been under lately.
Keir threads his fingers through mine, then gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Deacon seems to think we’ll love it here. Palm trees, sunshine, and fresh air is what he promised.” He brings my hand up to his lips and plants a kiss across my knuckles. “I’m sure I’ll start to enjoy it more once we get to the hotel. Hopefully.”
Saffron turns back from the window to look over at us. Her gaze flicks down to our entwined hands as a small smile plays across her lips.
“It’ll be fun. Even if it isn’t, it’s not like we have to stay very long.” She jerks her thumb back toward the window. “The jury is still out on the fresh air, though. All I can see from here is a lot of smog.”
The smog isn’t noticeable once we make it to the hotel, thankfully. The air is warm and a heck of a lot fresher than a lot of places back in Manhattan. The hotel manager meets us at the curb and escorts the three of us right through to a private elevator while someone else follows behind with our luggage.
Traveling with Keir has given me a glimpse into fancy suites and luxurious penthouses all over the world, but our hotel in Beverly Hills radiates the kind of old Hollywood glitz and glamour that can’t be found anywhere else on the planet.
I love it even before we make it to the suite on the top floor that has a view of downtown Los Angeles on one side and the mountains on the other.
“This is exactly what I was hoping it would be.” My jaw is starting to ache from smiling so much as I walk to the center of the room and turn around in a full circle, just taking it all in. “There’s just breathtaking, overwhelming beauty everywhere I look.”
He grins and takes me into his arms, slowly spinning around with me one more time before stopping and kissing me. “I’m enjoying the breathtaking, overwhelming beauty right now.”
Goodness, he knows how to melt a girl’s heart. And a girl’s panties.
“If that’s your way of getting me into bed,” I whisper, smoothing my hands across his broad chest and wishing we had enough time to strip down right here, right now. “I have to tell you… it’s working.”
“I’ll have to remember that when I have you all to myself later tonight. If Deacon wasn’t already on his way over, I’d—”
A knock on the door interrupts what was probably going to be a dirty, sexy promise. “Speak of the devil.” Keir flashes a wry smile and gives me one more quick kiss before pulling back from our embrace to go answer the door.
Deacon Masters is tan and toned and has a blindingly white, million dollar smile that makes him look like he stepped right out of one of the old classic movie posters we passed in the lobby. Even Saffron looks starstruck as she comes out of her room to meet him.
“Damn, man,” he pulls Keir into a quick hug, then moves to greet me with a peck on the cheek. “I would’ve invited you months ago if I’d known you were bringing these beautiful women with you.”
“Just try to keep your hands to yourself,” Keir says, shooting him a sideways glance. “You’ve met my sister, Saffron.”