There was something about walking through a hotel lobby in heels that made me feel like a powerful figure in the world. Almost like I was a celebrity. Truly, the hotel Dominico had booked was grand, but people still turned to stare at me as I walked by.
It might have been because of Henri, but I didn't want to ruin my own moment, and therefore ignored him.
A consistent hum of conversation greeted me upon entering the dining area, and my eyes scanned the premises in search of a large man with a deep tan and thick onyx curls. It wasn't that hard to find him, since almost every woman in the room was looking in his direction already.
He was on the phone, speaking in fast Italian with a hand taking notes on the table. Broad shoulders and a clenched jaw decorated by a neatly trimmed beard made for an imposing picture to anyone who took a look at him.
