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The shower beckoned, and Sophie climbed inside, enjoying the warm water pouring over her skin. Her back felt a little raw, and remembering the encounter on the cot, she shivered. The man who had made love to her on the cot in her studio loved her back. Sophie was sure of it.
Almost sure.
She dried quickly and put on her clean clothes. She looked younger than she was in the slightly oversized t-shirt with her hair wet around her shoulders. Despite her unease, Sophie could see the light of pleasure and happiness still burning behind her eyes. She smiled at her reflection and set out to find Henry.
He wasn’t in the small parlor. A paperback was open on one of the low tables though, the spine slightly creased. Sophie ran her fingers across the cover. It was a book by Isabel Allende. Sophie had read it once on a train through Budapest. Did Henry find the rich description as enamoring as she did?
Sophie bit her lip, wanting the opportunity to ask him, to sit across a dinner table perhaps and discuss books or movies or anything. They’d had very little normal between them in the brief course of their relationship.
“Henry?” She poked her head out onto the terrace, taking a deep breath of early morning air, still tasting slightly chilly. He wasn’t there either.
She didn’t bother doing more than peeking into the other bedrooms. Each was decorated in a slightly different style. They all boasted the same rich elegance, and subdued wealth, as Henry’s room, though not quite on the same grand scale.
There was a library that Sophie could have lost herself in for days. She eyed the floor to ceiling shelves stuffed full of volumes with undisguised longing, but the room was empty. It was clear Henry spent at least some time here, at least. A leather wingback was arranged with a view of the thin window, and the small end table beside it was covered in several folded newspapers and magazines. An empty tumbler weighted them all down.
One room was full of racks of wines. She’d known Henry enjoyed wines, but hadn’t realized he had such an extensive collection. The dining room and kitchen were both empty as well, though there was coffee made and some fresh cut fruit.
“Well, at least there’s breakfast.” She fixed herself a mug of coffee and popped a bite of sweet melon into her mouth. She munched at the fruit and sipped her coffee, listening intently for a
ny noise in the vast penthouse.
Had he gone out for something?
She heard a soft ping and followed the sound to a closed door beneath the stairs that she hadn’t noticed before. It was slightly ajar. She pushed lightly with her fingertips and it swung open on silent hinges.
Henry sat behind a huge mahogany desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, frowning over a packet of papers. His laptop was open beside him, the source of the ping that had drawn her.
Sophie took a step backward, biting her lip. He was clearly working and she didn’t want to interrupt. His eyes flicked up to her face before she could retreat.
“Sophie, come in.” His brow smoothed and he beckoned her closer.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. I wasn’t sure where you were.” She leaned her hip against the side of his desk, biting her lip. She couldn’t meet his eyes for very long, the anxiety she thought she’d suppressed trickling back into her brain. She ran a finger around the rim of her mug instead.
His tentatively circled her wrist with his fingers, lifting her knuckles for a brief kiss. “It’s fine, Sophie. I was just looking over some paperwork.”
“Oh?” She licked her lips, her pulse leaping at his touch. Their eyes met. Sophie saw the flare of desire in Henry’s dark gaze, but there was still some wariness there too. She was surprised when he tugged her down into his lap and wrapped an arm around her waist.
His fingers stroked her side absently and he waved the papers in his other hand. “Plans for a building in Switzerland. The location is prime, I’m just not sure what for.” He sighed. “Sorry, I thought I would come wake you soon, but I guess I lost track of time.”
She stroked the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “What time did you get up?”
“Too early,” he groaned. She chuckled, poking at the sheaf of papers.
“This was bothering you, wasn’t it?”
His brows curved upward. Was he surprised that she’d guessed correctly or that she wasn’t angry with him? Sophie couldn’t tell.
Henry’s lips quirked. “It was. Not while I was sleeping of course.” He squeezed her waist. “But once I was awake...” He shrugged.
“That big, sexy brain started working?” Sophie ran her fingers through his hair. Henry tilted his head, eyes wide with surprise.
“You think my brain is sexy?”
Sophie shifted on his lap, a flush staining her cheeks. The truth was, she thought everything about him was sexy. “Maybe. So, where in Switzerland is this project you’re pondering?”
His lips twitched into an amused smile, but he let her change the subject. “Lausanne.” He pronounced it with the French accent, low-zen.
“Oh! I love it there. It’s a beautiful city. Is the property on the lake?” Joy sprang in Sophie’s chest as she remembered the lovely Swiss city on Lake Geneva. Henry blinked in surprise.
