Other than a nod here and there, or a general greeting, he didn’t speak to anyone, and they didn’t stop until they reached the elevator in the front lobby. Guests did not have access to the floors above, so they were the only ones in front of it. His mouth dropped next to her ear so only she could hear him. “The apartment is technically Tripoli’s, but he doesn’t stay often since he built a house in Castroville for him and Francesca. We’ve gotthe run of the place as long as we need it. The guest room is down the hallway, second door on the left.”
He was up to something. “Why does that seem to amuse you?”
“I was just trying to figure out how to get you there. Figured I’d just tell you because I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it if I picked you up and threw you over my shoulder and carried you. Knew if I did, I’d probably want to bite your ass, what with it being so close to my face in that position. I was hearing your squawk in my head, and it made me smile.”
When they arrived upstairs, he let her walk ahead of him into the apartment. She looked around, taking in the space. It was an open concept—directly to the right was a kitchen with a breakfast bar, a dining room table in front of that, followed by the sofa facing a flat-screen television and a wall of bookshelves that went all the way to the hallway on the far right. There were also patio doors that led out onto an oversized balcony.
“First things first. Panic room.” He led her into Tripoli’s primary bathroom, opened the shower door, and showed her how to access the fake wall that hid the small space inside the internal wall. “Any trouble, you go here. Shut the door, and once you close it behind you, the only way to open it is from the inside.” He pulled her in and showed her the monitors so anyone inside could see into the bathroom, each of the other penthouse rooms, the patio, the elevator carriage, and the lobby area right in front of the elevator doors. “Tripoli, Cosmos, and I all get a notification if someone goes inside. There’s also a phone you can use to call out on if, for some reason, none of us can get to you. It’s fireproof, too, so if someone tried to smoke you out, you’re still safe inside.”
“Got it.”
“Francesca went out and bought you a few things. She said she laid them out on the bed and stocked the guest bathroomwith toiletries. If you want a shower, go ahead. Or, if you’d prefer a bath, she said you’re welcome to use the one attached to the primary bedroom, as well as anything that’s in there.”
“Sounds heavenly. Think I’ll do that.”
“I’d offer to cook you dinner, but we’d probably both end up in the emergency room if I did, so I’ll have the kitchen in the club send something up. Anything you’d like in particular? It’s all food-truck-based because that’s the schtick on the arcade.”
Her mouth started to salivate. “I can’t remember the last time I had a cheeseburger.”
“With or without bacon?”
She glared at him. “Are you a monster? Of course, there needs to be bacon on it. Ketchup. Extra pickles. Cheddar cheese. Lots of cheese.”
“Fries?”
She sent him another look. “Smothered in bacon and cheese?”
With a shake of his head but still smiling, he said, “You’re gonna have a gut ache from that.”
She moaned. “But it will be so worth it.” Already she could taste the sharp cheddar and salty bacon.
He kissed her cheek. “Yes, little spy, you can have cheese and bacon with some fries as garnish.”
“Yum.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Tripoli probably has beer in the fridge and soda, but I’m guessing it’s going to be caffeine-free. It seems ridiculous to me that soda even has that option, but… given that Francesca was pregnant not too long ago, it makes sense. He’ll also have wine somewhere. Not sure what pairs well with a cheeseburger. And he also has really, really good alcohol in the bookcase cabinet to the far right.”
“Wine and a bath sound like they pair better than wine and a cheeseburger.”
“Got it. You go ahead. I’ll bring you a glass in a couple of minutes.”
Triumph got busy in the kitchen, so she wandered back to the primary bathroom to check out the tub. She let out a soft moan at the deep, claw-foot tub with a padded headrest and a rolling tray to hold wine, a book, and whatever else you might need. After turning on the water, she opened drawers until she found bubble bath. Francesca clearly spent a lot of time using the tub, as there were almost a dozen choices of scent.
A capful of lavender scent in the water later, she quickly stripped out of her clothes, piling them on the vanity to deal with later, and stepped into her version of heaven. She closed her eyes and almost immediately felt her body begin to unwind.
She had no idea how long it had been when a pair of soft lips brushed her forehead. Opening her heavy eyelids, she saw Triumph kneeling at her side with a wine glass in his hand.
He took a sip. “You crashed. Probably should skip the wine.”
Languidly, her arm rose from beneath the bubbles, and her hand reached for the glass he held. She drew it to her mouth, taking a long sip, her gaze locked on his. When she finished, he took the glass and set it on the tray.
He pouted. “Damn. Didn’t take Francesca for a bubbles girl. Now I’m missing out on the view.”
“You haven’t even looked down. Most times, a woman has to point out where her actual eyes are, not the other way around.”
“I’m imagining it.” The tips of his fingers dipped into the water and made swirling patterns. He didn’t touch her, but it disturbed the froth in front of her, and if he kept at it, he’d eventually disperse it enough to get an eyeful, since he was at chest level. “Food will be here in about twenty minutes. I’ll come get you when it’s here.”
“You’re not going to stay and keep me company?”
