แปลภาษาอังกฤษเป็นไทย ออนไลน์ แปลภาษา แปลข้อความ แปลบทความ แปลเอกสาร แปลประโยคอังกฤษเป็นไทยทั้งประโยค แปลเอกสารภาษาอังกฤษเป็นภาษาไทยทั้งประโยค แปลประโยคอังกฤษเป็นไทย แปลอังกฤษ แปลไทย ฟรี [Translate] English to Thai Translation Translate Translator , ภาษาอังกฤษ มีใช้ในประเทศออสเตรเลีย แคนาดา ไอร์แลนด์ นิวซีแลนด์ สหราชอาณาจักร สหรัฐอเมริกา ไลบีเรีย เบลีซ แอฟริกาใต้ อินเดีย
bring it under control. But, as usual, it refuses to cooperate, and my only option is to restrain it with a hair tie. I shall search in my purse, when I find it. I take a deep breath. Time to face Mr. Confusing.
I’m relieved to find the bedroom empty. I hunt quickly for my purse – but it’s not in here. Taking another deep breath, I enter the living area of the suite. It’s huge. There’s an opulent, plush seating area, all overstuffed couches and soft cushions, an elaborate coffee table with a stack of large glossy books, a study area with a top-of-the-range Mac, an enormous plasma screen TV on the wall, and Christian is sitting at a dining table on the other side of the room reading a newspaper. It’s the size of a tennis court or something, not that I play tennis, though I have watched Kate a few times. Kate!
“Crap, Kate,” I croak. Christian peers up at me.
“She knows you’re here and still alive. I texted Elliot,” he says with just a trace of humor.
Oh no. I remember her fervent dancing of the night before. All her patented moves used with maximum effect to seduce Christian’s brother, no less! What’s she going to think about me being here? I’ve never stayed out before. She’s still with Elliot. She’s only done this twice before, and both times I’ve had to endure the hideous pink PJs for a week from the fallout. She’s going to think I’ve had a one-night stand, too.
Christian stares at me imperiously. He’s wearing a white linen shirt, collar and cuffs undone.
“Sit,” he commands, pointing to a place at the table. I make my way across the room and sit down opposite him as I’ve been directed. The table is laden with food.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a selection from the breakfast menu.” He gives me a crooked, apologetic smile.
“That’s very profligate of you,” I murmur, bewildered by the choice, though I am hungry.
“Yes, it is.” He sounds guilty.
I opt for pancakes, maple syrup, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Christian tries to hide a smile as he returns to his egg white omelet. The food is delicious.
“Tea?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
He passes me a small teapot of hot water and on the saucer is a Twinings English Breakfast teabag. Jeez, he remembers how I like my tea.
“Your hair’s very damp,” he scolds.
“I couldn’t find the hairdryer,” I mutter, embarrassed. Not that I looked.
Christian’s mouth presses into a hard line, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Thank you for organizing the clothes.”
“It’s a pleasure, Anastasia. That color suits you.”
I blush and stare down at my fingers.
“You know, you really should learn to take a compliment.” His tone is castigating.
“I should give you some money for these clothes.”
He glares at me as if I have offended him on some level. I hurry on.
“You’ve already given me the books, which, of course, I can’t accept. But these clothes… please let me pay you back.” I smile tentatively at him.
“Anastasia, trust me, I can afford it.”
“That’s not the point. Why should you buy these for me?”
“Because I can,” his eyes flash with a wicked gleam.
“Just because you can doesn’t mean that you should,” I reply quietly as he arches an eyebrow at me, his eyes twinkling, and suddenly I feel that we’re talking about something else, but I don’t know what it is. Which reminds me…
“Why did you send me the books, Christian?” My voice is soft. He puts down his cutlery and regards me intently, his gray eyes burning with some unfathomable emotion. Holy crap – my mouth dries.
“Well, when you were nearly run over by the cyclist – and I was holding you and you were looking up at me – all ‘kiss me, kiss me, Christian’,” he pauses and shrugs slightly, “I felt I owed you an apology and a warning.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Anastasia, I’m not a hearts and flowers kind of man, I don’t do romance. My tastes are very singular. You should steer clear of me.” He closes his eyes as if in defeat. “There’s something about you, though, and I’m finding it impossible to stay away. But I think you’ve figured that out already.”
My appetite vanishes. He can’t stay away!
“Then don’t,” I whisper.
He gasps, his eyes wide.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Enlighten me, then.”
We sit gazing at each other, neither of us touching our food.
“You’re not celibate, then?” I breathe.
Amusement lights up his gray eyes.
“No, Anastasia, I’m