“Room assignments for the hotel, boss,” she says cheerfully, because we both know she gave them to me yesterday and I left them on my desk.
“Thank you,” I call back over the noise of the blades speeding up.
Stepping into the cabin, I take my seat opposite Ruby. Her cheeks are still pink from the match, her hair damp from her shower, and her eyes stay closed as I settle in, but I notice a tiny smile flicker on her face.
“Miles, are those the room keys?” asks Billy as the helicopter rises, and Ruby’s eyes fly open.
“Yeah.” Ripping open the envelope, I pull out smaller ones, each with our name on, and start handing them out.
Diego, Juan, Billy, Jack. I stop. The fifth envelope is labeled Miles and Ruby.
Slowly, I look up at mywife.
The person I’m sharing a room with for the next week.
CHAPTER 20
Ruby
I’m staring at a huge king-size bed, wearing nothing but panties.
When I packed my bag this morning, it never occurred to me we’d be in the same room, and I have very little in the way of sleepwear. At least I managed to shower and brush my teeth at Foxleigh before we left.
Steam billows under the door because Miles clearly showers in boiling water, and I have approximately five minutes to figure out what to do about both the clothing and the sleeping situation. I’m not sure which is stressing me more.
Think, Ruby, it shouldn’t be this hard.
Except it is, because all that’s going around in my head is visions of Miles naked.
It’s only when the shower stops that I jump into action.
Luckily, there’s a couch along one wall, and searching the closet, I find blankets and more pillows. Turning it into a bed is a no-brainer. And Miles’s duffel bag is open, so I swipe a T-shirt from the top.
I’m just pulling it over my head when Miles walks out, towel around his waist, while he rubs another one over his hair. Steam curls around him. Water glistens on his skin, and his damp,dark hair is pushed back from his forehead. For one completely humiliating second, I forget how to breathe.
The spider incident was PG compared to this.
My grip tightens on the blanket I’d been about to drag onto the sofa.
I try to look away, reminding myself that if he were wearing swim shorts, it wouldn’t be any different. It’s only because the towel is so white and sitting so low on his hips that it appears way more inappropriate than it is.
Or maybe it’s me being inappropriate.
Me and my filthy R-rated mind sitting right down in the gutter can be bed companions tonight.
Miles’s voice cuts through all my dirty thoughts. “What are you doing?”
I thought it was obvious, but okay. “Making up the couch.”
“Why?”
“There’s only one bed.”
“Yeah.” He leans against the doorway like this conversation is already over. “And we can both fit in it.”
Heat climbs up my neck. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Not happening.” His answer comes instantly. Firm. Certain.
