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“Everything okay?”
“Fine,” Claudia snapped, then took in a breath and told herself to relax. It was almost done.
“Just your signature, thanks,” the receptionist winked at Claudia, as though they were sharing a secret joke.
There was only one spot left on the form and Claudia added the cursive signature she’d developed over the years.
“Your suite is on the seventh floor. I understand you’ve had some items stowed in the room already, but please don’t hesitate
to contact our concierge if there are any problems. You’ll catch a lovely view of the Winter Wonderland from the bedroom.”
Claudia frowned. “There’s two bedrooms?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. All our suites have a minimum of three bedrooms, actually.” And then, the receptionist leaned forward once more, her own smile conspiratorial. “Except the honeymoon suite, of course.”
“Of course,” Claudia murmured. “Thank you.”
“Enjoy your night!” The receptionist called cheerily.
Claudia risked a glance at Stavros as they moved towards the bank of lifts, him striding and her having to walk quickly to keep up.
He wasn’t saying anything, and he seemed distracted.
“Is everything okay?”
He turned to her and nodded, but still said nothing. Claudia frowned, jabbing her finger into the lift call button.
The doors opened instantly, revealing a sumptuous cubicle, lined with mirrors, featured a red velvet bench and an old-fashioned lamp protruding from the wall.
“How charming,” she remarked, swiping the key and pressing the button for the seventh floor. He stood beside her and in the confines of the tiny space she was instantly aware of his effect on her.
Muscles low in her body clenched with the memory of his possession and she almost groaned audibly. She took in a breath to calm her rioting nerves but it was a terrible idea, because the cubicle was filled with him, including his unique scent, and it expanded into her lungs and senses, reminding her powerfully of all the ways she desired him.
“Do you usually get hotel staff to do your menial paperwork?” He asked as the lift doors opened and Claudia froze. She’d hoped he hadn’t seen, or hadn’t noticed. But Stavros saw everything.
Claudia’s heart sank, because she knew from experience there was only one way to cover incidents like this up. It was the same way she’d beguiled the receptionist downstairs.
She sent him a look of impatience. “Yes, Stavros. I snagged a nail getting into the car and I didn’t want to make it any worse. I don’t exactly have time for a manicure before this thing tonight.” She winced mentally at the image she was playing into, the expectations people had of a spoiled, entitled heiress. “Is that okay with you? Or do you want to find fault with me for that too?”
It wasn’t fair. She was using his guilt over the fact they’d slept together to shut down his line of questioning. But desperate times called for desperate measures and Stavros was the last person on earth she wanted to know about her dyslexia.
She couldn’t stand it if he, of all people, looked at her as though she was broken. Like her father had. With that sense of disappointment and disbelief.
“And writing would do that?” He prompted, apparently not fooled by her story.
“Could have,” she shrugged. She slowed as they reached a gloss white door with their room number in gold on the front, then swiped the key across the panel.
The door made a clicking noise as it unlocked and they were in the suite. It was exactly as Claudia would have expected a hotel of this standing to offer. Sumptuous furnishings, beautiful views in all directions, everything the very best quality.
“Well,” she murmured, not meeting his eyes. “There’s only an hour before we have to leave again. I’d better get ready.” She forced a frosty smile to her lips and then moved into one of the doors to the right, hoping it was a bedroom.
It was, and luckily, it had a garment bag hanging in the large wardrobe. She lifted it out, running the zip down and carefully pulling the Valentino gown. It was the perfect dress for the occasion. Black with a vee neck and a scooped back, fitted to the waist and then flared to the knees. Red flowers in a gauze material were overlaid on the dress and she’d chosen a pair of red stilettos to partner it with.
Ordinarily she wouldn’t buy a gown like this without a fitting but Valentino had been her go-to designer for so long that she was confident they knew her sizing. She held it against her body and looked in the mirror.
She was pleased with what she saw. She knew it would look good. But Claudia didn’t smile.
She had the inexplicable sense that storm clouds were gathering on the horizon of her life, and she had no clue how to shield from them.
