“Want me to show you to your room?”
Her room. Yes, there it was. The reality check. Because he wouldn’t want her in his room, would he? “Sure, that would be great.” She stood up quickly, carefully setting her glass down, and followed him up the stairs.
Colt had picked up an armful of clothes, still on hangers, and opened the door to a bedroom facing onto the beach. He walked over to the closet and hung them up while she watched the view. It was even more perfect from up here.
The wide bed faced directly toward the window. She could lie in bed at night, watching the stars and the waves crashing on the beach.
“This is gorgeous, thanks. Don’t worry—I know it’s only temporary. I’ll try not to get under your feet. I promise.” She grabbed some lingerie and hurriedly stuffed them into a nearby set of drawers.
Easier said than done. But she had to say the words out loud. As a reminder to herself not to try and live the fairy tale. This was someone else’s life. Not hers. She had a responsibility to get herself back on her feet. Without relying on anyone else.
Colt went to walk out the door, then hesitated. He brushed his finger down her cheek, catching a lock of her hair. “I don’t want you to think I invited you to stay here because…”
“Because we’re sleeping together?”
He blinked. Sometimes she was too direct. Too blunt. But it was best to get these things out in the open.
“What I meant to say is, I don’t expect, I mean, I don’t want you to think—”
She pressed her finger up against his lips. “Shhh. I know exactly what you mean, Colt. You’re a friend helping out a friend. Like you said. Nothing more, nothing less. I think we can both live with that for a few days.”
He pressed his lips together. “We agreed a few days, but if you need a little longer, then let me know. We can work something out.”
He looked relieved, the tension dissipating out of his shoulders, and her heart sank. She’d said the words, but didn’t really believe them. It was what she thought he wanted to hear.
He’d been straight with her. And deep down, she knew he was feeling obligated to her. She hated that. She only wished he’d invited her here because he wanted her here.
“So, what are the house rules?”
His eyebrow arched. “You have no idea what I want to say right now.”
She laughed. “No. I don’t. But give me a rundown.”
“It’s kind of difficult. I’ve never lived with a woman before. I’ve never even let one stay.”
“Whoa. You’re breaking all kinds of rules already then.” She looked around again. “You already told me you were a neat freak. You really meant it, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Guilty as charged. I don’t really like mess. I hate wet clothes and towels lying on the bathroom floor. As long as you’re tidy, hang your clothes up, and pick up after yourself, we should be fine.”
A million little explosions were going off in her brain. The whole prince-and-pauper thing kept floating through her mind. He really had everything. A job he loved. Workmates who respected him. He was smart. He was together. He was totally committed to supporting a really worthwhile charity. She felt a million miles away from what he was now. What on earth did she have to offer him?
Even on a most basic level she didn’t like to admit it, but housekeeping was not her best skill. She was going to have to be on her best behavior for the next few days.
He gave her his slow, sexy smile again, the one that always made her legs turn to mush. “Can I take you out for a late dinner then? My cooking leaves a lot to be desired and my favorite restaurant is a five-minute walk away. Linguine clams, crab cakes, seafood risotto, and their special sunset clam chowder. Can I tempt you?”
More than you know.
She straightened her shoulders. “Sure, why not. Let me get changed.” She dropped a kiss on his cheek and ushered him out the door, closing it behind him so he wouldn’t see her sag against it. The sky was inky black with a thousand silver stars scattered through it. Together with the sound of crashing waves it was simply perfect.
There was so much here to fall in love with.
And that was entirely her problem.
…
Colt gunned the engine as he waited for Selena. Patience wasn’t his best virtue, and he wasn’t used to waiting for someone in the morning. No. Scratch that. He wasn’t used to having someone around in the morning.
For him, every day started the same. A run along the beach and a quick dip in the ocean before heading back up his steps just in time to smell the freshly percolating coffee. He had it timed to perfection.
What he hadn’t counted on was the half-dressed woman, messing up his kitchen with her hair wound up and skewered by a pair of chopsticks. As for the pineapple juice running down her chin…
He stuck his head out of the car window. “Selena! What are you doing in there?”
He watched as she ran out, with her bag in one hand and her pink stilettos in the other. She bumped the door closed with her behind and he tried not to fixate on whether her underwear matched her shoes. She’d distracted him enough this morning.
He was trying not to think about the lingerie he’d glimpsed lying on her bedroom floor. Or the fact she’d left her cutlery in the sink instead of stacking it in the dishwasher.
She climbed into the truck and slammed the door. “Sorry. Someone got my hair all wet in the shower this morning.” She shot him a smile. “It takes ages to dry and straighten.”
Her hair was glorious, hanging in a perfect blond sheet. But he kind of liked it better when it had been all mussed up with the chopsticks. She pulled lipstick from her bag and started to put it on in the mirror. Fuchsia. This woman was going to be the death of him. “Have I made you late?”
He frowned as he maneuvered amongst the early morning traffic. Colt usually missed the rush hour. His pager sounded loudly, causing them both to jump. He glanced down at his waistband and saw the clinic security number flashing.
Selena rolled her eyes. “Seven thirty in the morning. It’s got to be Magdalena. She’s the only person who would think you were at her beck and call. I thought her surgery went well?”
“It did.” Colt frowned and pressed the button on the dashboard to connect to the clinic. “Ramon? It’s Colt Travers. I’m on my way in. Is there a problem?”
“Take the rear entrance.”
“What?” Colt felt his hea
rt sink like a stone. “What’s happened?”
There was only one reason Ramon would tell him to use the rear entrance.
“We’re under siege here, Dr. Travers. I’ve called your mobile four times. Magdalena’s picture is everywhere. There’s been another leak, and it’s all over the press this morning. I’ve ordered extra security, and it’s going to cost a fortune. We’ve had to lock the front gates to keep out the press. There’s even a helicopter circling above us.”
Colt cursed and fumbled in his jacket for his mobile. Dead. He’d forgotten to charge it after taking Selena to dinner. Probably because he’d been so distracted by her.
Selena turned pale. “What does that mean?”
Colt jerked the wheel, overtaking a small sedan and putting his foot to the floor. He was furious. “It means we haven’t managed to plug the leak.” He dodged in and out of the traffic, taking a smaller road leading them up to the back of the Seacliffe complex. The road was rarely used, and only regular staff even knew it existed.
“You realize everyone will see us come in together?” Selena voice had a slight tremble.
She was right. Helen would already be in a bad mood and seeing them arrive together would only make it worse. Colt shook his head. “With any luck, she’ll be too busy to notice. If not, I’ll deal with Helen later.”
A picture of Magdalena’s face in its current state would make the front page of every newspaper in the world. It didn’t matter how good a surgeon he was. A face-lift was still major surgery—with all the bruising and swelling that went along with it. There was no way to hide it.
Please don’t let them have a picture.
Two of the security guards were standing at the back gate. The thwack-thwack of the helicopter blades roared above them and the fierce current of air blasted their clothes through the open window. The security guards gave him a nod and moved to let him pass. “Ramon’s waiting inside for you, Dr. Travers,” the guard shouted then added, “And that woman’s been creating hell for the last half hour.”