Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(85)

Logan shook his head, staring down at her. “I just . . . I guess I expected you to be upset.” A smile curved his mouth again, and he leaned down to lightly kiss her brow. “This is why I love you, Bront?.”

Because she wasn’t like Danica? She snorted, and that tiny move made her head hurt all over again.

“Rest, love,” Logan told her, brushing a hand over her cheek and pulling the covers back up around her chest. “You have a few hours before we land.”

“Where are we going?” she asked sleepily.

“It’s a surprise. One I think you’ll enjoy.”

***

It was a surprise, all right. Hours later, after she’d taken aspirin for her hangover, Bront? stared in surprise at the small airport where they’d just landed. It looked . . . familiar. She looked up at Logan questioningly.

“Come on. We’ll miss the ferry to Seaturtle Cay if we don’t hurry.”

“We’re going back to the resort?” She wobbled behind him a few steps as he began to head down the tarmac briskly. “I don’t understand. Isn’t it wrecked? How can it be open for business?”

“It’s not open,” he told her. “But not all the rooms are destroyed, and I thought you wouldn’t mind having another look at the place when a hurricane isn’t bearing down on you.”

Bront? was silent as they took the ferry out to Seaturtle Island, then drove out to the resort. The downed trees had been cleaned up and the power lines restored, she noticed as they drove. When they pulled up to the main resort, the sounds of drills and power saws greeted her, and she looked at the hotel in surprise. Large swaths of the entire eastern wing of the resort were covered in construction plastic. There was no broken glass littering the lobby any longer—everything had been cleaned up and repaired. Trees had been righted, or replanted, and the entire place seemed different from when she’d last seen it.

Bront? passed by the gift shop and noticed a floral beach dress, very similar to the one she’d salvaged from the place when they’d been stranded, hanging on the mannequin. The diamond necklace was still there, which made her smile ironically at the sight. To think she’d been worried about Logan taking it because he wouldn’t be able to afford it. How he must have laughed at her concern. She shook her head and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and felt warm when he automatically placed his hand over hers.

They entered the hotel, and a curly-haired man with a swarthy tan and wearing a suit appeared, extending his hand for Logan to shake. “Mr. Hawkings. It is a pleasure to see you here.”

“Mr. Douglas,” Logan said. “Things look like they are proceeding well.”

“Indeed they are. Repairs have continued around the clock, and once the upgrades are decided upon, we can continue with the renovations.” Mr. Douglas smiled at Bront?. “This must be Miss Dawson.”

Bront? extended her hand politely, smiling at the manager. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Miss Dawson is tired from our trip,” Logan said in a crisp voice. “Is our room ready?”

“It is,” Mr. Douglas exclaimed with a bright smile. “Everything that you have asked for is ready and waiting.”

Both men paused for a moment, and then Logan looked down at her. “Love, I need to meet with Mr. Douglas to discuss some things. Would you like to go up and check out our suite? Let me know if there’s something that’s not to your liking.”

She nodded absently. It felt like Logan was trying to get rid of her at the moment, but the need for a shower outweighed everything else at the moment. “What floor are we on?”

“I will have someone show you the way, Miss Dawson.” The manager turned and waved over a tall, willowy woman. “Luz, please escort Miss Dawson to Mr. Hawkings’s personal suite.”

“Right away,” Luz said, smiling at Bront?. “Please follow me.”

Logan kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be up shortly.”

She nodded and pulled away from him, following Luz across the lobby. Bront? paused when Luz stopped in front of an all-too-familiar elevator. “Can we take the stairs?”

Luz seemed surprised at her request. “It is twenty floors up. Are you sure you wish to take the stairs?”

Bront? grinned. “Oh, I’m sure. Very sure.”

“Very well,” Luz said, leading her farther down the west wing. At the end of a long hallway, they opened the door to the stairwell. It was well lit and there wasn’t a single mattress in sight, which was almost disappointing. Bront? thought of the long nights she’d spent there, curled up with Logan. Funny how at the time she’d been wondering what he was thinking about her.

Funny how she was back to square one in that aspect.

Since she’d been living in Gretchen’s fourth-floor walk-up for the past two weeks, the flights of stairs were not so bad, and she handled them better than poor Luz. They paused repeatedly between sets of stairs, and it took longer than anticipated to get up to the top floor. But she was in no hurry to step back into that elevator, so she didn’t mind.

When they finally got to the twentieth floor, Bront? noticed the hall had been recently recarpeted, and art hung on the walls. New art? she wondered. The smell of paint was still strong, the walls crisp and fresh with color. Had they remodeled this portion of the building first, knowing that Logan would be stopping by for a visit?