Henry nodded as the men packed the boxes into the black Hummer that would be shadowing them back to his L.A. apartment. When he saw the emotion welling in Gabriella, he shook his head.
"Hush now," he said, wiping at her cheek with his thumb. "None of that. You're far to pretty to be sad."
His smile widened and gained a touch of wolfishness when she kissed his cheek. "You're wrong, though-- of course you do." Henry paused. "You promised to sing for me."