But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t put up an argument when necessary. “Thank you so much. I’d be fine in the guest room, though. Really.”
“I turned the guest bedroom into a workout space.” He began wheeling her suitcase down the hall. “It’s either the master bedroom or my fold-out couch, and I’m not subjecting you to that.”
She followed him, fascinated. Never before had she ventured this far into his home. Whenever she’d visited, he’d kept them safely ensconced in the public areas of the house. The kitchen, the den, the powder room. All nicely decorated, all generic. All revealing nothing important about the man who lived there.
“The couch will work,” she said. “Please don’t give up your own bedroom.”
A token protest. She really wanted to see his damn room. To the point where if he didn’t hurry up, she was going to shove ahead of him to get a peek.
“Your back is hurting.” He swung open the door at the end of the hallway. “It’s been hurting all day. If you sleep on that couch, you’ll hobble for the next week.”
Her jaw dropped. What else did Sebastián see but never discuss?
“You’re walking like you do after too many two-hour massages, but it’s probably from the moving instead.” He heaved her suitcase onto a low wooden table. “Why don’t you pour a drink and relax while I clear some space in the dresser?”
She hesitated. “Are you sure about my using this room? I don’t want to inconvenience you more than absolutely necessary.”
“I’m sure.” He nodded toward the doorway. “You know how to use the television and DVR, so make yourself at home.”
Oh, no. She wasn’t leaving. Not when she had the chance to see him in his inner sanctum. His fortress of manly solitude. The place where he…
She looked around. Wow. The place where he didn’t appear to do a hell of a lot, honestly. She’d expected it to be more personalized than the public spaces, but it wasn’t.Other than a few photos of his family, most of which she’d seen displayed in his parents’ house back in high school, the room was all dark wood and pale gray paint and comfortable-looking furniture.
No mementos on the dresser. No art on the walls. No magazines or books on the nightstand, even though she knew he loved to read.
Had he put his personal items away before her arrival? Or did his room always look this sterile?
A plaintive yowl drifted through the open doorway, and she winced. “Poor Kitty. She’s probably getting licked to death.”
“She’ll be fine. Her standoffishness is mostly an act, anyway.” He looked around the room. “Do you want Hairy with you here at night, or out in the living room?”
“The living room is perfect. He won’t want to stray far from Kitty’s side, anyway.” She laughed. “She may never forgive you for this betrayal.”
He shrugged. “She hasn’t forgiven me for any number of other offenses either. I’ll live.”
“May I sit on the bed while you work?”
It stood in the center of the room, tall and wide and covered by a crisp, striped duvet. Two pillows encased in soft-looking charcoal-gray fabric lay in a precise row at the head of the mattress.
She wanted to jump on the bed and roll around. Tangle herself in the sheets and ruin that careful, pristine perfection. But she’d settle for sitting up against the solid, curved headboard and watching him go through a few of his drawers to make room for her.
He paused for a long moment, but he sounded unconcerned when he answered her. “Sure. You’ll be sleeping there soon enough.”
When she hopped up, she almost moaned in relief and pleasure. A pillow top. He’d bought the fluffiest pillow top mattress she’d ever felt, not the hard rectangle of back-wrenching torment she’d expected.
She couldn’t resist. She had to do it. And oh, my goddess, it felt amazing.
“What…” He looked at her over his shoulder as he sorted through a drawer. “What the hell are you doing, Lucy?”
“I’m making a duvet angel.” She stopped, leaving her arms and legs stretched spread-eagle across the most amazing bed in existence. “I couldn’t resist. This is the mattress of the gods, Seb.”
The corners of his mouth tucked inward, his secret version of a smile. “I’m glad you approve.”
“The princess from The Princess and the Pea? She’d totally be into this bed.” She raised herself on one elbow. “She’d move in, and she’d never leave, no matter how many times you tried to convince her to go. It wouldn’t matter how many evil stepmothers you recruited to force her out or how many peas you put under the mattress. She’d just dropkick the stepmothers, fish out the peas, and take another nap.”
When he laughed, his cheeks creased in the most adorable way. “Dropkicking stepmothers seems a little harsh.”
“Evilstepmothers. They deserve dropkicking.” She sat up and wiggled backward until her shoulders met the headboard. “Besides, I empathize with the princess. I need my rest. Officially, I’m done at my old job, but a few of my favorite clients asked me to keep seeing them until I leave. So I’ve been planning my move, working,andfilming this past week.”
