Brandon looked disgusted. He poked his noodles as if he had no appetite and opened a can of soda. “I’ll clean this up when you’re done. You should rest. It’s been a rough day for you.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“On this couch.”
“The bed is big enough for both of us. I swear I won’t try anything funny on you.”
He almost snorted in his drink. “Lillian, let me make this clear for you. I’m your bodyguard and let’s leave it at that.”
“Why?”
Brandon put down his can and lectured her for half an hour on why he thought she liked him and why the two shouldn’t cross the line between the maiden and the bodyguard. Lillian listened with only half an ear. What was up with his code of honour obsession? If he didn’t have feelings for her, he wouldn’t have kissed her back so passionately, would he? She could swear that when they’d kissed earlier, she’d felt a deep connection as if she was discovering her soul mate for the very first time.
She narrowed her eyes. Brandon was trying to fool himself. She wasn’t buying it one bit.
Lillian turned off the faucet and stepped out from the shower, feeling refreshed. She grabbed a towel and dried her body. Her clothes were piled up on the edge of the sink, but she had no intention of putting them back on. She had hatched a devious plan during her long shower. Lillian wanted him. Her knight in shining armour. Now or never.
She wasn’t doing it because she felt obligated to pay for his service with her body. Or because she’d developed some kind of attachment to her rescuer like Brandon had told her while they were eating. Lillian wanted him because she liked him. Anyway, ‘like’ was such an understatement. She’d had a big crush on him to begin with. And besides, Lillian was curious. About sex. About the joy of giving her body to a man she liked.
Now or never.
Brandon was sleeping on the sofa when she came out from the bathroom. Half his legs were dangling from the armrest and his head was propped up with his jacket. It couldn’t be comfortable sleeping like that. The sofa was too small for his tall frame. Yet he refused to sleep in the bed. Talk about a man of his word.
“Brandon?”
His eyes remained closed as he acknowledged her with a grunt that sounded like, “What?”
Lillian squeezed her way between the sofa and the coffee table, and settled herself next to him. He opened up his eyes as she hugged him and curled into him like a contented cat.
“Lillian.”
“Yes?” she purred, snuggling closer.
His warmth felt comforting. His scent too. A good male scent, unlike Stanford with his nauseating cigarette stench.
Brandon sat up abruptly, sending her tumbling to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he told her, helping her sit on the coffee table. He drew a sharp inhalation when he found her only wrapped in a towel.
“Is this your way of saying you don’t like me?”
“It’s not…”
“I do this because I like you. Not because I feel obligated because you saved me.” Lillian laughed nervously. “I have a confession. I had a big crush on you ever since I saw you on the terrace. I thought you’re the hottest guy alive.”
He snorted.
“You don’t think you’re hot?”
He snorted again.
“Well, you know what your problem is? You think too much. Can we, for once, just go with the flow and see where it takes us? If you don’t want me because you don’t like me, that’s fine. I won’t bother you anymore. I thought about the kiss we had. That must mean something…”
“God.” Brandon looked torn as if he was battling his own personal demon. Silence stretched between them until he finally spoke. “You’re tempting me, Lillian.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Very bad thing.”
“Well.” Now or never. She fisted his collar and slowly pulled him towards her. “Who said I’m a good girl in the first place?”