The man was beautiful. There simply wasn’t another way to put it.
He had one of those faces you saw on the cover of books growing up as a child. The face of the hero or the adventurer. The poet or the pirate. The guy who always beat the bad guy, got the girl, and was still always looking out toward the horizon.
It was the eyes. You could see entire worlds in those eyes.
Everything else was just icing on the cake.
The glowing skin. The sculpted body. The golden hair and careless grin. Twice, he had been made a six-figure offer for the movie rights to his life. Twice, he had turned it down.
Everyone wanted him. Everyone wanted to be him.
And yet...what struck me most tonight was the look on his face.
There was a faint crease running down the center of his forehead, and a protective tension to the way he was holding his hands. Like he was trying to literally hold himself together. To self-soothe. His lips, always on the constant verge of smiling, had thinned to a thoughtful line, and as the wind danced his hair across his forehead, I could have sworn I heard him sigh.
With a stab of concern, I leaned an inch or two forward. I was on the verge of calling out to him. On the verge of running from my room to his, just to find out what was wrong.
But the next second, he straightened suddenly and walked back inside. The lights turned off in his room just a second after that, then all was quiet.
...what was that about?
Chapter 15
An hour later, I had yet to fall asleep. I had gone inside not long after Nick—my pensive city mood vanished abruptly upon seeing that sad look on his face. Instead, I tossed and turned in my brand new bed. Staring up at the draping canopy. Wondering, after our seemingly perfect day, what the hell had gone wrong?
Then the sound of splashing water caught my ear.
...what the fuck?
I sat bolt upright in bed, cupping a hand over my ear as I craned my neck toward the doorway. It was soft, but I was certain. It was water alright. And from the sounds of it, it was coming from the middle of the house.
For a split second, I was completely baffled. Then I suddenly remembered my client’s latest winter purchase, and instantly understood.
I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get to sleep...
Quiet as a mouse, I padded down the stairs and into the living room. Sure enough, Nick was back in the hot tub. Leaning back. Eyes closed. Wet hair dripping down his neck. As a precaution, he was wearing some sort of black swim trunks, but at this point, it hardly made a difference. The man looked like sex. Nothing he could do about that now.
“Back in the hot tub, then?”
His eyes shot open, and he gazed up at me with a steamy smile.
“I’ve grown ridiculously attached to it. I’m thinking of getting one for every room.”
I giggled and shook my head. That sounded like Nick.
“You could start a trend...”
His grin faded slightly as he looked me up and down.
“I didn’t wake you, did I? Sorry—I tried to be really quiet.”
“No, no—I was up,” I reassured him, perching on the edge. “I have no idea why. That is hands down the greatest bed I’ve ever slept in...I just can’t turn off my brain.”
He glanced up at me, as if he was well familiar with the problem, then cocked his head invitingly toward the water. “Care to join me? It’ll help you relax.”
Somehow, I sincerely doubted that. I stared for a second at the gorgeous, dripping man in front of me, then glanced down self-consciously.
“I don’t have a bathing suit...”