Chapter 262: Is This What Being 'Good' to You Looks Like?

Serena Sinclair's POV:

"I suppose I could," he leaned in, deliberately close to my ear, "but you'll have to buy them for me."

His warm breath fell entirely on my sensitive earlobe, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

I laughed softly. "Why do I have to buy them for you? Surely the great Phillip Kingston owns something other than bespoke suits."

"Board meetings and courtrooms rarely call for Hawaiian shirts," he replied with a rare hint of humor.

"I'll buy them for you," I said with a smile, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with my wool coat.

Back at the hotel, I reclined on the sofa with a legal journal about international jurisdiction, hoping to find something relevant to Laura's situation.

Phillip opened his laptop and began working intensely, occasionally making calls in a low voice. I didn't ask questions or disturb him, understanding the gravity of what he was doing. Instead, I researched on my own, occasionally glancing at him with newfound appreciation.

As the hours passed, I alternated between reading and watching the news, trying to distract myself from the worry gnawing at the edges of my mind.

At midnight, Phillip was still working, his face illuminated by the blue light of his laptop screen. I realized we'd skipped dinner in our focus on work, and my stomach gave a quiet protest. If I was hungry, Phillip must be too by now.

I quietly approached the door and slipped out to speak with one of the security guards stationed outside.

"Is it possible to get food service at this hour?" I asked in a hushed voice.

"Of course, Ms. Sinclair," the guard replied professionally.

"Could you arrange for some food to be sent up? Something substantial but not too heavy," I requested.

"Certainly. What would you prefer?"

"Perhaps something from a French bistro if possible? And some fresh fruit as well."

"I'll arrange it immediately, ma'am."

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

When I returned to the suite, I found Phillip standing by the window, stretching his neck after hours hunched over his computer.

I approached him. "I've arranged for some food. You should take a break. When it arrives, we can eat something before you continue or go to sleep."

"Thank you," he said, genuine appreciation in his voice.

He began loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar.

I stepped forward without thinking. "Let me help you."

I reached up to help with his tie, and Phillip looked down at me with curious eyes. "Why are you suddenly being so attentive?"

"Was I not considerate before?" I looked up, my fingers working on his tie.

Phillip didn't answer, but his expression said enough. There was something different about my manner tonight, and we both knew it.

I focused on carefully removing his tie, then moved to the buttons of his shirt. "I'll always try to be more thoughtful from now on."

As my fingers worked down the row of buttons, I knew what I was feeling. I was learning gratitude—real gratitude—for someone who was risking so much to help my family. Someone who treated me with genuine care and consideration that I'd never experienced before.

It was time I showed him that I understood the value of what he was giving.

Phillip's understanding gaze met mine as I tried to hide my concern. He reached out, gently tilting my chin up with his finger.

"Don't feel obligated," he said softly. "I'm not helping your family to make you feel indebted to me."

"Everything I'm doing is because I want to, not to manipulate your feelings or force your gratitude."

He'd read me perfectly. I did feel a mixture of gratitude and something else I couldn't quite name. A genuine desire to be good to him that went beyond mere appreciation.

"Is this what being 'good' to you looks like?" I asked quietly. Had I been such a terrible girlfriend before that even these small gestures seemed like a significant improvement?

"You should shower," I said, changing the subject as I helped him remove his dress shirt. His physique was impressive—toned and strong, his skin smooth from a lifetime of privilege. Not rough at all.

"Okay," he murmured in agreement, unbuckling his belt as he walked toward the bathroom.

I draped his shirt over a nearby chair and settled on the sofa with a book I'd found earlier. After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door.

One of the security team stood there, holding several bags. "The items you requested, ma'am," he said, extending them toward me.

"Thank you," I replied, accepting the packages and closing the door behind me.

The guard had been thoughtful, purchasing various fruits along with some food. I washed some of the fruit and set it aside.

By the time Phillip emerged from the shower in his pajamas, I had arranged everything on the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

"You rarely eat this late," he observed.

I smiled in response. The curry at dinner hadn't appealed to me, so I'd barely touched my food. Now I was genuinely hungry.

Phillip knew I hadn't eaten much earlier. We both kept our late-night meal light—eating too much before bed wasn't comfortable.

Once in bed, I fell asleep quickly. Despite being in an unfamiliar country and strange surroundings, having Phillip beside me made me feel secure enough to rest peacefully.

When I rolled over at some point, I discovered the space next to me was empty. Opening my eyes, I realized Phillip had already gotten up. I sat up in bed, looking around the quiet room with sleepy eyes. He didn't seem to be anywhere nearby.

I pushed aside the covers and changed out of my nightclothes. Opening the door to the hallway, I found the security guard still stationed outside.

"You're awake, ma'am," he said. "Mr. Kingston had some business to attend to. He'll return later. He mentioned you might want to go sightseeing and instructed us to accompany you."