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“You kept me up too late last night,” I argue, laying the blame at his feet.
His touch disappears, and reluctantly, I blink my eyes open.
He’s standing beside the bed, wearing a gray suit. He’s already showered. He looks debonair, a James Bond lookalike.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Since six,” he says. “I had a few calls I needed to take. Here, I ordered room service. Come eat while it’s still hot.”
I’m self-conscious of the fact that I’m wearing absolutely nothing. Jonathan realizes a beat after I do, nodding toward the cabinet under the TV.
“I had them bring your things up. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind? I’m immensely grateful that I have something to put on.
He turns to walk over to the suite’s living room space, giving me a moment to scurry over and tug out a pair of panties. That’s the only privacy I get, though. He watches me now as I dig through my bag, looking for a bra. My skin flushes, but underneath that surface feeling of shyness, something comes alive at the fact that he can’t help but look at me. Even after last night, all those hours we spent together weren’t enough, apparently.
After I slip on a bra and some jeans, I peer over my shoulder at him, and he tries to conceal a private smile as he turns and reaches for the newspaper folded near our breakfast spread.
“What do you have planned for today?” I ask, trying to make my inquiry sound light.
“Aside from getting you home? Not much. I should put in a few hours at my desk later, but it’s nothing that can’t wait.”
“Getting me home?” I ask curiously.
“I booked a seat for you on my flight.”
He says it like it’s nothing, but I know damn well I’ll be sitting beside him in first class, sipping champagne and luxuriating in miles of extra legroom.
“I’ll cancel mine then.”
He nods as he flips through the newspaper sections until he lands on Business.
“We could do dinner?” I suggest. “If you don’t have to work, that is.”
He smiles but doesn’t look up. I think he’s trying to act like this isn’t a big deal, us starting to weave our lives together.
“Yes to dinner. And I’d like you to stay over,” he adds.
Inside, I’m so delighted I could squeal. “Okay. I’ll just need to grab a few things from my apartment.”
He finally looks up at me. “Don’t pack light. That way it’s easier. I have so little time during the week, and I’d rather not waste it having you go back and forth to your place.”
“All right.” I wink. “I’ll packheavy.”
