You must be famished." He heads into the bathroom and closes the door.
I let out the breath that I've been holding. Why is he so damned attractiveRight now I want to go and join him in the shower. I have never felt this way about anyone. My hormones are racing. My skin tingles where his thumb traced over my face and lower lip.
I feel like squirming with a needy, achy... discomfort. I don't understand this reaction.
Hmm... Desire. This is desire. This is what it feels like.
I lie back on the soft feather filled pillows. 'If you were mine.' Oh my - what would I do to be hisHe's the only man who has ever set my blood racing around my body. Yet, he's so antagonizing too; he's difficult, complicated, and confusing. One minute he rebuffs me, the next he sends me fourteen-thousand-dollar books, then he tracks me like a stalker.
And for all that, I have spent the night in his hotel suite, and I feel safe. Protected. He cares enough to come and rescue me from some mistakenly perceived danger. He's not a dark knight at all, but a white knight in shining, dazzling armor - a classic romantic hero - Sir Gawain or Lancelot.
I scramble out of his bed frantically searching for my jeans. He emerges from the bathroom wet and glistening from the shower, still unshaven, with just a towel around his waist, and there am I - all bare legs and awkward gawkiness. He's surprised to see me out of bed.
"If you're looking for your jeans, I've sent them to the laundry." His gaze is a dark obsidian. "They were spattered with your vomit."
"Oh." I flush scarlet. Why oh why does he always catch me on the back foot?
"I sent Taylor out for another pair and some shoes. They're in the bag on the chair."
Clean clothes. What an unexpected bonus.
"Um... I'll have a shower," I mutter. "Thanks." What else can I sayI grab the bag and dart into the bathroom away from the unnerving proximity of naked Christian. Michel-angelo's