Saltwater Kisses (The Kisses 1)

“That would be amazing! I don’t know how much it would cost, but I would love to see Central Park and Times Square too,” I said, pulling myself away from the window. Rachel laughed.

“Cost is no issue. Jack has made it very clear that you are to have anything you want, no matter the price. You are, technically speaking, the wife of a billionaire.”

My tongue felt very dry. The most I had ever had in my bank account at one time was a little over five thousand dollars, and that had only lasted until I paid tuition. The idea that I didn’t need to worry about money was slightly intimidating. Rachel tipped her head, motioning me to follow.

“I realize that this must all be very new for you, Emma. I’ll help you as much as I can. If you need anything or want anything, please let me know. Mr. Saunders has put me at your disposal for as long as you are in New York.” She turned and smiled, pushing open a door to reveal a large bedroom. “This is your room.”

I stepped inside. The room was probably as big as my entire apartment back home. A beautiful king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room on an island of plush carpet surrounded by hardwood floors. Another floor to ceiling window dominated the far wall, a sheer curtain currently obscuring the view. A writing desk was tucked in the corner next to a wooden dresser, and I could see a bathroom bigger than my parents’ kitchen through an attached doorway.

“Your clothes are in the closet, and everything you need is in the bathroom. If you’re hungry, the kitchen is fully stocked. Mr. Saunders will be staying at the office tonight, so you have the place to yourself. Will breakfast at eight be acceptable?” Rachel stepped back into the doorway, clasping her hands behind her back. I realized that it was late and she was probably ready for bed.

“That should be fine. Um, if I need something in the middle of the nig

ht, who should I call? Is there a number for the landlord I should know?”

Rachel’s lip twitched up in amusement. “No, no landlord. If you need anything, you have my phone number. My apartment is just downstairs, so I’m not far away. There is also a security guard outside at all times that can assist you with anything you may need in the night.”

“Then I will see you at eight tomorrow,” I said. A yawn snuck out at the very end, my body suddenly realizing that I was tired. Rachel nodded briskly and headed down the hallway. I heard her close the door behind her.

Suddenly, I was very tired... and very alone. I quickly got ready for bed and cuddled into the downy-softness of the big bed. Sleep found me quickly and fell into it deep.

***

I woke to a gray dawn leaking in through the gauzy curtain. Outside, I could see the Hudson River flowing past a cold world. Gray buildings reached up towards a gray sky, the city skyline stretching as far as I could see. The city was so much bigger than anything I had ever seen and I felt tiny in comparison. I was very far from home.

I slipped on some clothes and headed to the kitchen. Rachel would be arriving any minute, but I was starving so I poured a glass of milk and sat at the comfortable wooden kitchen table, looking out at the city skyline and wondering what crazy thing was going to happen today.

My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, followed by Rachel calling my name. She found me in the kitchen and handed me a foil wrapped burrito.

“I had Maria make yours mild, but if you like spicier, she makes a mean salsa,” Rachel said as she sat down across from me and unwrapped a matching burrito. She set a container of salsa in the center of the table. I carefully pulled the foil off my own burrito and took a bite.

“This is fantastic,” I moaned as I stuffed my face full of eggs, potatoes, cheese and tortilla. Rachel grinned and nodded as she took a bite out of her own.

“Maria, the head maid, makes these from scratch. I have yet to find a restaurant that makes them this good. Try it with the salsa.”

I poured a little on the top and took a bite. My mouth flooded with spicy deliciousness. It was the perfect level of heat so I poured more on. Before I knew it, I was licking the last bits off my fingers. “So what are we doing today?” I asked, wishing I had more burrito. I was full, but it had been so tasty.

“We are going to dress you like a billionaire’s wife. I hope you are ready for a busy day,” Rachel answered, folding up the foil to her own burrito. I tried not to sigh too loudly. I hated shopping. Nothing ever seemed to fit properly and I always ended up spending too much for things I only sort of liked.

We stood up from the table and headed to the door. Rachel frowned at my ripped coat as I threw it on over my long-sleeved t-shirt. “What?” I asked.

“We have our work cut out for us today,” she said with a forced smile.

I shrugged and opened the door, nearly running into a tall, dark-haired man. I sputtered an apology and stepped back into the apartment, hoping he was supposed to be there and wasn’t a very clever tabloid reporter.

“Hello, Dean. Is the car ready?” Rachel asked him smoothly as she buttoned her coat and stepped around him into the hallway. He nodded. “Excellent. Dean, I would like to introduce you to Ms. Emma LaRue. Emma, this is Dean Sherman. He will be your personal security consultant while you are here in New York.”

“Personal security consultant? You mean I get a bodyguard?”

Dean grinned at me. He was tall and thin, but I could tell he was far stronger than he looked. His dark hair held traces of gray, but his blue eyes were bright and piercing. He held out his hand and when I shook it, there was genuine warmth in his grasp.

“Ms. LaRue, it is a pleasure to meet you. Your safety is my priority, so I will be following you at all times. I do my best to be discreet, but if there is a situation, I will need you to follow my directions.” I nodded and he let go of my hand.

“Are you sure I need a bodyguard? I mean, no offense, but I’m not that important.”

Dean gave me a look that could match my father’s. “You are important, and Mr. Saunders agrees with me. So no trying to lose me because you don’t think you need a bodyguard.” If he was anything like my father, he was about to start explaining to me something he felt was important.

“I would never—” I started.