Project: Runaway Heiress by Heidi Betts Page A

she would be disappointed by what she found—namely a single bed in a single bedroom off the main sitting area.
    She stood in the doorway, studying the room. He tried to decipher her thought process by her body language—the line of her spine, set of her shoulders, the movements of her hands and fingers dangling at her sides. Unfortunately, she was giving nothing away.
    After several long minutes, she turned back around. For a second, she stared at him, looking none too pleased. But then her gaze floated past him and her chest fell as she expelled a breath.
    “I guess I can sleep on the sofa,” she said, giving him a wide berth as she walked past him. “With luck, maybe it pulls out.”
    The sofa was long enough for a body to stretch out upon, but didn’t look comfortable enough that anyone would want to. Still, she started removing the cushions one by one, feeling around for a handle that would turn it into her bed for the night.
    Nigel opened his mouth to stop her before the first cushion was even taken off, but found himself distracted by the sight of her shapely rear as she leaned over. He’d noticed her change in wardrobe this morning when he’d picked her up for their flight—from the dark, Ashdown Abbey business attire she’d been wearing around the office to a much lighter, brighter dress of unknown origins—but hadn’t truly appreciated her current clothing choice until just now.
    When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she straightened with a huff, putting her hands on her hips. He could have gone on admiring the view all afternoon, but finally took pity on her.
    “Nonsense,” he said, causing her to spin around, cushions still askew. “There’s no need for you to stay on the sofa.”
    She quirked a brow. “Do you expect me to sleep on the floor, then?”
    He gave a snort of laughter. “Certainly not.”
    The quirked brow lowered as she narrowed both eyes, her mouth flattening into an angry slash. “If you say the bed is big enough for both of us,” she all but growled, “I will not be responsible for my actions.”
    Her frown deepened when he chuckled at her obvious irritation.
    “What kind of employer do you think I am?” he couldn’t help but tease.
    She didn’t respond, simply waited, her expression still one of a woman who’d just unwittingly sucked on a lemon.
    Crossing the space between them, he cupped her shoulders, giving her an encouraging “buck up” shake before letting his palms slide down her bare arms.
    “Surely this suite is spacious enough for the two of us to manage without getting under each other’s skin. And we can ask that a cot be brought up before nightfall, set it up out here. I’ll use it,” he added. “You can stay in the bedroom.”
    Some of the temper leached out of her features, softening the lines around her mouth and eyes.
    “I can’t make you do that. This is your suite. You should be able to enjoy the bed.”
    He had half a mind to inform her that he’d enjoy it best if she joined him there. He hadn’t even seen the bed in question yet, but he’d stayed in enough luxury suites to have a pretty good idea of just how expansive and inviting it would be.
    Surely enough room for two to sleep comfortably. And more than enough room for them to do much more than that.
    Though he knew it was a bad idea all around, he indulged himself for a moment in fantasies of having her naked and in his arms. Of rolling around on slick satin sheets with her. Of having her beneath him, above him, plastered to him by their own perspiration and mutual passion.
    His errant thoughts alone caused tiny beads of sweat to break out along his brow and upper lip. He could only imagine the physiological response he might suffer from full-on body-to-body contact of a carnal nature with her.
    Which was a problem. A rather large, obvious problem, if she’d cared to glance down and notice as much. Thankfully, she didn’t.
    But hadn’t he sat down just last week and given