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Every gilded cage needed cushions.
“Thank you.”
My words were husky, but they were all I could think to say, all I knew to utter in the face of what he’d done for me.
The statement had him jolting, then narrowing his eyes at me. “How do you do that?”
I grinned, lifted my foot, and showed him my socks. “Ever seenRisky Business?”
He snorted, but his face softened, going from harsh to, well, less harsh to be honest. “I have, but I’m surprised you know what it is.”
My nose crinkled. “I like old movies.”
“Risky Businesscame out a year after my birth,” he said dryly.
A sigh escaped me. “Oops.”
“Yeah. Oops.” His lips twitched, but he waved a hand at the room. “It’s growing on me.”
Like mold.
Great.
I eyed him a tad warily. Father would do this. He’d say he liked something, would reel you in, then he’d slap you…
But Eoghan wasn’t like that.
I had to have faith.
Ugh, wasn’t that just another word for hope?
“It is?”
“It is.” His nod was decisive. “It’s not to my taste, but it’s welcoming.”
“I’m glad you think so.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I’m very happy that you like my taste, but, you know, my father? Did you—”
“You should know not to ask me about business,” he chided.
I rolled my eyes. “My sister just called. She’s frantic.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My brow puckered. “I know it was you. Any other sniper would have brained him, never mind gone for his knees.”
Like he was tired of the conversation, a conversation I hadn’t anticipated because I’d thought he’d crow, he strode forward and brushed past me.
He headed into the bedroom and froze at the sight of the bed which was, I’d admit, majestic.
This place had had an overhaul too, and now it looked fit for a Maharajah.
The headboard was one and a half the size of the queen-sized bed. It was filigreed and covered in knots and detailed work that formed tigers and roses and all kinds of beautiful carvings. It was whitewashed too, and the covers were resplendent and thick with lush cyan velvet undertones that offset the gold and rich chocolate brown rug that went underfoot. There weren’t a lot of cushions because, even though they looked fancy, I wasn’t the kind of person who could be bothered with taking them off every night and putting them on again in the morning, but the duvet and comforter were in jewel tones that caught the eye.
I’d changed the curtains too. The simple drapes that had shielded blinds were now a rich purple. Nightstands made out of driftwood with large, moon-shaped globes for lamps stood at the side of the bed, and at the foot, there was an old-fashioned steamer trunk that I’d had overnighted on eBay.
When he froze, I wasn’t sure if he liked it. Then, he seemed to shake it off and traipse into the shower.
Before he’d left, we’d had sex.
