The Boyfriend (The Boss 7)

Neil gave me a flicker of a scowl. “Do you have any idea what he’s up to?”

“Nope. I thought you would. Like this was some big elaborate prank.” It had better not be. I became suddenly furious with them for the imagined slights I would endure. “What, we’re going to get up to the room, and some housekeeper is going to be wearing a sheet and going ‘boo,’ right?”

“That’s insulting, Sophie,” Neil grumbled, the lines in his forehead deepening in irritation. “If was going to try to frighten you with a made-up ghost, I’d put far more effort into it. Holograms, flickering lights, all of that.”

“Thank you, I feel so at ease now.” I grabbed his hand. “You really don’t have any idea?”

“I assume it involves sex,” he said with a chuckle. “It always does, with us.”

I tapped my index finger against my lips. “Not always. The present I got you two doesn’t involve sex.”

We would have sex on it, however. Neil and El-Mudad had been dreaming of yachts—even though El-Mudad already had four—and how to customize the perfect one for all three of us.

I’d pretended not to be interested, but I’d taken mental notes on every single conversation. It had already been under construction for a year and wouldn’t be ready and staffed until May. There would be a portfolio gift-wrapped and waiting for them when we arrived in Venice, though.

Neil considered. “I’m not going to give you any hint about the presents I got for you two.”

“So, it has to do with sex,” I observed dryly.

“Not strictly speaking,” he hedged.

When we arrived in our room, we found two large, brown-paper-wrapped packages waiting for us on the recamier at the end of the bed. Neil and I stood in front of them, puzzled.

“Well...those would be pretty big for sex toys.” I reached for the card on the box closest to me, then said, “Ah,” and carefully maneuvered Neil to stand in my place. I flashed him the card. “That one is yours.”

“Let’s see what he got you, first.” Neil nodded toward the box. “I know you can’t stand waiting to open presents.”

Still smarting from their earlier joke, I lifted a finger in warning. “I swear to god if anything jumps out at me—”

“Nothing is going to jump out at you,” he said in exasperation.

Just as I reached for the package, he added, “That I’m aware of.”

“Stop!” I cautiously opened the end of the neatly-wrapped paper, as though it would explode. When nothing happened, I relaxed.

“Sophie, look out behind you!” Neil suddenly shouted, and I nearly reached the ceiling.

“God! Damnit!” I gave him a shove, once I could breathe again. “That was not funny.”

“It was a little funny.” Lucky for him, his silly, childish giggle always melted me.

I didn’t let him off the hook with a smile, though. Instead, I picked up the surprisingly heavy box and took it to my side of the bed.

Well, not really my side anymore. With three of us sleeping together every night, we tended to have to adjust position based on who was in the middle.

I tugged off the paper to reveal a gift box with a satiny white sheen beneath. I brushed the surface with my fingers. Nope, not just a sheen. The box itself was trimmed with satin.

God, our boyfriend could be so completely over the top.

Wriggling the lid free, I glanced over at Neil, who’d begun to work on his. He’d made quicker work of the wrapping than I had, probably because he wasn’t terrified that something lurked inside ready to scare him and make him feel silly. He’d already gotten down to the tissue paper, and when he folded it back, his hands lifted entirely away. “Oh, this is...”

So, El-Mudad had probably gotten him shoes, then. Only shoes seemed to move Neil with such raw, emotional power.

There was tissue paper folded neatly inside mine, too. I lifted the small gold seal holding it together and opened it.

I understood why Neil had been struck speechless. Well, I kind of understood. I doubted he’d found a dress in his box.

Lifting the delicate garment, I let it unfurl to the floor.

The whisper-soft silk shifted from a deep azure through the bodice and hips to an electric blue as it cascaded to the floor, and a barely-there layer of black gossamer shimmered and cast shadows across the vibrant colors. “It looks like a butterfly,” I mused, then gasped as I caught sight of the delicate pumps still in the box. Simple, azure satin, but with bejeweled blue butterflies resting delicately on the heel of one, the toe of the other.

They matched the ones embroidered on the dress’s train.

I glance over to Neil, expecting that he’d received a suit of some kind, but I realized that wouldn’t have made sense. Neil wore mostly bespoke suits, and I wasn’t sure El-Mudad would even have a clue how to buy anything off the rack. “What did you get?”