Exotic Nights
‘Time,’ he corrected, smiling faintly. ‘Business has been busy.’ He looked about. ‘The basic design is there but I haven’t had the chance to get the last bits done yet.’ He glanced at her. ‘I’ll show you to your room.’
It was on the far side of the living area. There were more rooms heading down the corridor next to it, but through their open doors she could see that they were empty. In the room he stopped at, there was just a bed and a chest of drawers.
‘Sorry it’s so bare.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m used to less.’
‘I’ll make up the bed.’
‘I can do it.’ She didn’t want him in the room any more than necessary.
She took a look out the window—it overlooked the street; she could see all the shoppers. There was a seriously yummy smell wafting up from the Malaysian restaurant next door. ‘You must eat out all the time.’
He answered from the doorway. ‘They do me take-out packages. But I try to cook a few nights a week. The downside is the rubbish collection—before six o’clock every morning all the bottles from the night before get tipped into the recycling truck. Makes a hell of a din.’
‘I’d have thought you’d be well up by then anyway.’ She shot him a look. ‘Working.’
That hint of humour resurged, warming her. It was then she fully recognised the danger—she was still hopelessly attracted to him. If he turned on the smile charm again she’d be his in a heartbeat.
She kicked herself. He wasn’t offering anything but a room, remember? And she didn’t want his sort of gratitude. Tiredness swamped her and the fairy dress slipped lower. She desperately needed a shower. Desperately needed to get dressed in something far more concealing. ‘Do you mind if I use the bathroom?’
The amusement in his eyes became unholy. ‘Sure. Follow me.’
He led her back into the main space, and across it. Her footsteps slowed as she spied what was through the doorway he was headed to—a very big bed with most definitely masculine-coloured coverings.
‘We’ll have to share the bathroom—is that OK?’
‘Um … sure,’ she mumbled. ‘That’s fine.’
She was in his bedroom. Her skin was prickling with heat.
‘The bathroom is one of the things yet to be finished.’ He was talking again. ‘There’s a loo near the kitchen, but the only shower and bath at the moment are the ones in the en suite for the master bedroom.’
The master bedroom—his bedroom—this bedroom. Oh, life couldn’t be so cruel.
He was watching her with that wicked twinkle faintly sparking in his eyes. ‘It’s a really nice shower.’
She was quite sure it would be. She wanted to ask if there was a lock on the door, but thought better of being so rude. She hurriedly looked away from him, only to get an eyeful of his walk-in wardrobe space—and all the suits that were hanging there.
Suits.
Completely thrown, she followed where he’d wandered into the bathroom. It was her turn to stop in the doorway.
He stood in the centre of the room. He turned towards her, his smile satisfied. ‘It’s something, isn’t it?’
She nodded. It was all she could manage.
‘When I get the chance I’ll get the rest of place up to standard too.’
It was beautiful. A huge wet play area that oozed with refined elegance. All the fittings were obviously expensive. The colourings were muted—dark grey, black with sparse splashes of red. A shower space with ample room for two and the biggest bath she’d ever seen.
She railed against her own appreciation of it. Materialistic was not her—there were other, more important things in life. And yet there was no way she couldn’t indulge in such classical luxury. No way she couldn’t stop thinking of him in there too.
‘Take as long as you want,’ he said, passing her so closely she shivered. ‘You’ll find everything you need in here.’
She sagged against the door after he closed it behind him. What she wanted and needed had just walked out.
The kitten heels of her slippers echoed on the wooden floors as she walked back through to the kitchen. She could smell the most delicious smell. So good it wiped the final traces of the rank burnt-egg odour from her senses.