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Disrespected me in the first place.
He’s launching into the whole episode on the phone when I touch his arm, shaking my head gently. Pleading with my eyes for him to just let it go.
Thinking maybe we should just go, but he won’t have any of it.
Noah Templeton promises to come downstairs and deal with things personally before slamming the phone down.
“Noah, don’t,” I tell him. “Is it really worth it?” I glance at the rose petals on the carpet, at the trays of food and finally I look him up and down with a look I know tells him more than that stupid maid ever could.
He groans and rolls his eyes, gripping me by the elbows and kissing me hard.
“I can hear a bath running,” I confess, cocking my head and making my way to that trolley while he jumps to stop the faucet.
“I had it cooling a little,” he admits as I trundle our food right outside the bathroom door.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask him, hoping like hell he is, because I’ve always wanted to eat in a bath that was big enough to swim in, and this one looks perfect.
“I’m sorry, Faith, I wanted to surprise you,” he admits.
“But you did,” I tell him honestly. “You really did. The bath with rose petals no less… and all this food!” I exclaim.
“Let’s start this morning over,” he suggests, and meeting me in the doorway, he leads me back to the bedroom and makes me close my eyes so I can tiptoe across the rose petals to the bathroom, gasping with surprise as I see what he’s laid out just for me.
For both of us, I hope.
“You’re getting in there with me,” I instruct him. Smiling once he takes my hand and kisses it.
“That’s kind of what I had in mind,” he says. “I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean for that.”
I shake my head, dismissing it and her like I know he just did.
Once I look into his eyes, I can tell it’s like we’re picking up right where we left off earlier.
Just the two of us, each having eyes for only the other. No matter what else happens.
“I want you in that bath and I’ll serve you breakfast,” he tells me. But I shake my head again.
“No?” he asks.
“No. I want you to serve me in that bath but...I don’t want to see a stitch on you either, Noah Templeton. I want my breakfast raw. Naked.”
“I’m getting in right behind you,” he laughs, helping me into the tub, which is the perfect temperature, and wheeling in the food before setting it out on a board that fits across the bath like a table.
Finally, he drops his robe and I sink deeper into the bubbles, feeling like food is the last thing I want after what else is on the menu.
“I’m gonna have you tubbed, scrubbed, and loved before your morning’s through Miss Holding,” he tells me, mimicking the sucky concierge and the even suckier staff in this place, but with an edge, I like the sound of that.
A lot.
Nestling in behind me, and cutting some food before he feeds me before himself, I notice a remote on the solid wooden table and a huge plasma screen opposite the bath.
Reading my thoughts, Noah flicks on the TV while we eat, and I lean back, glad to feel a certain hardness pressing into me that hints of what’s to come after we’re done here.
‘…In breaking news. The Fugitive trio who held up a bank truck has been traced across two states with two of the offenders being captured in a non-lethal shootout with police. Local sheriff’s say that the crime spree isn’t over, with a hostage being believed to have been taken by the third bandit who remains at large…’
There’s some aerial footage of the same armored car from the night before, but my heart stops when I see Sheriff Brodie’s cruiser, plus a dozen others surrounding an old plantation house.
It’s only for a second before Noah flicks the channel over to an old movie, but I recognize the place.
I also recognize another car in the long gravel driveway before Noah changes the channel.
It’s my Dad’s car. The one who took him to the airport.
“What’s the matter, Faith?” Noah asks, feeling me tense up under the water. “Don’t like old movies?”
I try and say something, but only manage a dry croak, pretending to fill my mouth with food instead and then taking a sip of a glass of juice in front of us.
“Honey? What is it?” he asks me again, but I can’t speak, I feel like I’m in shock.
“Faith?” he asks again, switching off the TV and leaning over me, asking if I’m alright.
“We should go,” I tell him quickly. “I don’t think you should spend any more money on places like this Noah, it doesn’t feel right,” I confess.
