The sound of water stops. My mouth dries at the prospect of facing Huxley when I have no clue what happened last night after we arrived here. A moment later, he walks out of the en suite bathroom with nothing but a fluffy white towel around his hips. Although we had sex, I haven’t seen him looking so casual and relaxed before. His body is solid, lean muscle covering his tall frame. It flexes as he moves. A droplet of water on his chest glides down to his deeply ridged abs. Although I can’t see the movement anymore, my eyes drop anyway. Heat prickles my skin.
Oh geez. I thought only men get excited in the morning.
“Good, you’re up,” he says casually. “I was about to wake you.”
“Um. Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Why am I here?”
He gives me a look. “How many times do we have to go over this? You agreed to move in.”
“Yes, but I don’t remember agreeing to share your bed.”
“In case you’re wondering, nothing happened.” His eyes bore into mine.
From the way they glitter darkly, he has to know I’ve been checking him out and getting turned on. A hormonal urge to throw caution to the wind and jump him battles with an absurd impulse to hide under the covers.
“My clothes…” I say, more to stop myself from doing something stupid than out of genuine curiosity. “Did you remove them?”
“Yes. It isn’t like I haven’t seen you naked before. When I take you, you’ll remember it.” His promise slides over me as erotically as the water droplet on his body.
My cheeks flame. “But the bed…” I need to take control of this conversation.
“Where did you think my would-be wife would sleep?”
“Um…” My gaze darts between him, me and the heavenly mattress under me.
“Exactly. My bed.” He enters the closet, the doors wide open.
“There’s a big difference between sharing a house and sharing a bed,” I say.
“I wouldn’t bring you here just to put you in another room.”
“Who’s going to know?”
“My housekeeper,” he says over his shoulder, then drops the towel.
A hand over my mouth to contain a sound, I stare at the most beautifully sculpted male ass I’ve ever seen. A corner of his mouth twists with a hint of smug arrogance, but I can’tnotstare. I totally missed out that night.
“Your things are in here,” he says.
“Thanks,” I choke out. He starts to pick out a suit—
Oh, shit!Today’s a work day and I need to get ready.
I jump up, head to the shower and close the door. This bathroom is larger than my entire bedroom, with a double vanity, separate shower and a huge Jacuzzi tub for two. The wall opposite the vanity is a smoked mirror, like the one next to the bed. But there’s a regular mirror over the sinks, so I use that to—
What the hell?
My cheek is swollen, the corner of my mouth cut. Concealer should be able to cover the discoloration somewhat, but there’sno way to hide the injury. Now that I look at the aftermath of what Nelson did, my face throbs dully. I’m glad Huxley didn’t mention it. I wouldn’t be comfortable getting into it with him first thing in the morning without coffee or a moment to figure out what to do.
I head to the toilet. The lid rises, blue lights illuminating the bowl. I give it a skeptical stare as it says something cheerful in a foreign language. It starts to spray a thin mist of…water?…inside the toilet bowl.
“Um… Hello? Good morning? Can you switch to English?”
The toilet doesn’t respond—but the lights remain on.O-kay. I wonder if I should check with Huxley to see if it’s all right to use the conversational commode, but my bladder says there’s no time. As soon as I sit down on the seat—which is pleasantly heated—it starts playing music and making gurgling water noises.
I cover my face.Why me?It’s too early in the morning to deal with this. When I’m done, I stand up and look around to see how to flush the thing, but the lid auto-lowers and the toilet flushes itself.
Shaking my head, I step into the shower stall, which, thankfully, does not talk. Seven separate jets sluice me down with heavenly hot water.Holy cow.I sigh with bliss. It’s the kind of luxury I’ve only read about, but never thought to experience. The body soap and shampoo are from some fancy spa in France, and they smell vaguely like forest and spring with a hint of spice—Huxley’s scent.
