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“Ah, mia cara, how many times do I have to tell you? I am no gentleman.”
Her smile froze.
“I will sleep in my big, soft bed. Did you know the mattress has one of the best memory foams?” I let my eyes have their wicked way with her. “It imprints on your body and cradles you softly, completely adapting to all your curves and bumps. Soft when you need it, hard when you want it.” I brought my eyes back to her flushed face. “You are welcome to join me if you want?”
“No fucking way,” she snapped, tugging the sheet and pillow with her. “Fine. I will sleep on the sofa.”
“Suit yourself.” I removed my trousers.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously, clutching the sheet in front of her.
“I am going for a cold shower, apparently.” I moved past her to the bathroom before turning around. Her eyes moved from my ass back to my face.
So, she had been following me.
I smiled. “Just a warning. I sleep naked.” I chuckled all the way to the bathroom, enjoying her shriek.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DIVYA
Sleeping in his room and waking up on a sofa felt strange. It had been a long time since I had slept next to a man, although, technically, I hadn’t slept next to him. But for some reason, this felt more intimate.
Waking up alone, on the other hand, was nothing new to me. I sat up, looking around me. It was a beautiful room. Big, in keeping with the rest of the house. But unlike the rooms downstairs, here, all the furniture was in stained black wood, giving the room a dark and intimate vibe.
The huge, king-size bed, the focus of our argument last night, was set against the wall in textured charcoal. Intrigued, I walked over to touch it. It felt rough but warm.
Like the master of the room who got my knickers in a twist.
I let that thought slide off me just as quickly as it had entered. I couldn’t be thinking thoughts like that.
I sat on the bed to feel the soft sheets. Catching a faint whiff of his smell sent me down memory lane when I was last close enough to smell his woody and sandalwood fragrance. My breath hitched, and feelings crept up on me together with those memories. That kiss. A girl could easily get used to that. Just thinking about it got my juices running.
With a sigh, I made my way to the bathroom, pausing on the way to fold my rumpled sheet on the sofa and tuck it under the pillow. I probably needed it tonight. It wasn’t too bad. The sofa was surprisingly comfortable, although his interior designer probably didn’t think of this scenario.
I rushed through my shower and came out wrapped in a towel. His. Black. Standing in the bedroom, I observed my surroundings again. It was lacking in two things, though. Colour was an obvious absence, together with the framed picture of my parents, which I kept in my room.
I found my clothes neatly hanging next to his. I ignored the need rushing through me to bury my head in what was his. Instead, I got dressed. I was almost out of the room when I noticed a small box and a note on the sofa. That was not there when I went for my shower.
Dinner at 7. Be ready.
Even his handwriting screamed arrogance and darkness.
I flipped the box to find a ring with a large ostentatious stone. Not really my style. What was this supposed to be? And dinner with whom?
A shiver of annoyance passed through my fingers, and before I knew it, I had grabbed my phone and texted him.
What’s the ring about?
He answered almost immediately. I pictured him sitting in some posh office in downtown Boston.
Your wedding ring.
For a man who dressed with so much style, the ring was a surprise.
Did you choose it?
Of course not. It used to be my mother's.
