A young man in sweatpants and a polo shirt, emblazoned with the name of the hotel, approached them. Hannah smiled, asking him to show them the pool, and he led the way.
‘This is gorgeous!’ The long narrow pool shimmered under green and blue lights, with Roman-style columns supporting wide beams that ran across the ceiling. The theme continued along the far wall, which was decorated with a mosaic that ran the full length of the pool, and depicted scenes of nymphs, dressed in classical costumes.
‘The Pamper Room is open all day, and you can make an appointment for a full session...’ The man broke off as Hannah waved her hand dismissively.
‘No pampering. But you have a steam room?’
They were shown the steam room, which was tiled in blue and green to match the pool, and big enough to accommodate eight or ten people. Hannah turned to Matt.
‘What do you think?’
He thought...that there were many good reasons why he shouldn’t spend time with Hannah clad only in a towel. But they had boundaries now. Ground rules. Before he could change his mind again, Matt nodded.
‘Yeah. It would be good to relax.’
By the time he left the small dressing room, anchoring the thick white towel securely around his waist, Matt was having second thoughts about this. But leaving Hannah to sit alone, while he made an escape back to his bedroom, was unthinkable. He opened the door of the steam room, finding that she was already there, swathed in a similar towel to his.
He sat down on the tiled bench, opposite hers, leaving plenty of space between them. Keeping his gaze on the floor seemed like a good option, although he could still see her feet, which were already a little pink, presumably along with the rest of her. Matt swallowed down the lump in his throat.
Steam rose between them, and he felt beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead. He should break the silence, but couldn’t for the life of him think of anything to say. Then Hannah started to tap her foot...
‘All right, I’m going to look. Only you have to look too.’
That was one way of breaking the ice. Suddenly this didn’t seem so hard after all.
‘Okay. Do you want to go first?’
‘No. I think we should do it together.’
Sweat trickled down his spine. He looked up at her, and found that she was unashamedly looking him up and down. Relief washed over him as he realised that Hannah liked what she saw.
He liked what he saw, too. The curve of her shoulders, and her pale skin, flushed with the heat. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, but a few strands had escaped and were sticking to her brow. The place where her towel was tucked over itself, between her breasts, was endlessly fascinating.
And this was okay. They’d given each other permission, and he felt no embarrassment. Even the dark scar on the back of his shoulder didn’t bother him. Matt was always conscious of it, although few people ever asked about it and those who did accepted his excuses without question. Hannah couldn’t see it from where she was sitting, and it suddenly seemed too unimportant to waste any more time on.
‘That’s got that over with.’ He grinned at her and she grinned back. Hannah’s chuckle was infectious, and laughing together drove away the last remnants of awkwardness.
‘Could I just say—’
‘No, you couldn’t just say anything.’ Matt saw the mischief dancing in her eyes and decided he probably didn’t want to hear it.
‘All right.’ She mouthed the words instead. Nice shoulders.
Okay, so he’d been wrong. He did want to hear it.
Fabulous knees, he mouthed back at her, and she laughed.
Hannah leaned back, closing her eyes. Matt took one last look at her, and did the same, feeling the cool of the tiles against his skin. The image of her smile stayed with him, curling through his thoughts like the subtle scent of pleasure.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MATT HAD BEEN congratulating himself on not only surviving the steam room but enjoying the chance to relax and laugh a little with Hannah. But when she appeared from her room, dressed for dinner, he found the juxtaposition of two separate images was far more arousing than he’d bargained for.
She wore a slim patterned skirt, with high heels and a wraparound blouse. Hannah looked both elegant and seductive, and when the image jostled in his head with that of one tiny bead of sweat running past the curve of her neck, and down towards her breasts, it was almost unbearably erotic.
This had to stop. It would, as soon as they got started on the challenge. It was just the effect of having too much time on his hands.
They made their way downstairs to the dining room, chatting awkwardly in the lift with two of the other contestants. Dinner was a matter of mostly surveying the room and picking at their food in between times.