to know that? “Bunny slippers and a sleep t-shirt.”
“It suits you. Those pajamas. So, can I stay? I’ll sleep on the couch. It should open into a bed.”
“No. You can’t. You have your own room.”
“It’s miles away.” The sulk is not a good look for him.
“It’s two floors up.”
“It’s too big.” Trying to stand, he sways instead and ends up knocking his head against the wall. “Ouch.”
My lip curls up with disapproval. “You’re drunk.”
He holds up a couple of fingers. “I had two beers, that’s all. Please, let me stay.”
I whoosh out a breath. What harm would it do to let him stay? He’ll probably pass out on the couch as soon as he falls into it. “Fine. But you’re sleeping on the sofa bed.”
Looking affronted, he jerks up straight. “I said I would.”
Yeah, he did. Opening the door wide, I invite him into my room. “Come in.”
“Thank you.” He swaggers in like he owns the place. “Where’s the bathroom?”
God, I hope he doesn’t have to puke. “Follow me.” I grab his hand and lead him in that direction. When we get there, I press his hand against everything he should need. “Towels are here. Tub is here. Toilet is here.”
“I should take a shower, huh?” His brow wrinkles like that hadn’t occurred to him.
“Yeah, you should.”
“Join me.” His smolder is a thing of beauty, but I’m not falling for it.
“I already bathed. You hungry?”
“No. I already ate.” He removes his jacket and hands it to me, his shirt follows. When his hands go to his belt, the memory of the night he couldn’t remove it jets through my brain. We’re not going through that again. Nudging back his hand, I snap it loose. “Slacks, please.”
He kicks off his Oxfords, pulls down his zipper and slides off his pants. When he goes for his boxers, I yell. “Wait.”
“You don’t want to see?” He gives me a wicked smile while swaying on his feet. Two beers my ass. Unless I miss my guess, he’s had a lot more than that.
“Nope. I’m going to step outside the room. When I do, you will take off your drawers and hand them to me.”
“Very well.”
After he does what he’s told, I put everything in a laundry bag and hang it outside my door. Everything will be returned, dry cleaned or laundered by morning. But before I do, I empty his pockets—wallet, key card, condoms. If he was hoping to get lucky with me, he’s got another think coming. I lay everything on the coffee table next to the couch. After I grab some pillows from my bed and an extra blanket from the closet, I make up his bed.
Fifteen minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom with towels wrapped around his neck and waist and smelling like my shampoo and body wash. “Now I smell just like you.” He grins.
I bite my lip to fight off a smile. “The couch’s all ready for you.”
“Great.” Without once bumping into anything, he skirts the coffee table and drops on the couch. The furniture in his room must be laid out the same way as mine.
Once he slides under the blanket, he extends his hand. “Join me.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
He blinks, yawns. “Come on. I won’t bite. I just want to talk.”
Figuring he’ll fall asleep within a minute, I sit on the side of the sofa bed, a foot away from him.
With his hands folded behind his neck, he leans back into the pillows. “What were you doing before I arrived?”
Crooking one leg on the bed, I turn to face him.“Reading.”
He makes a face. “Not the valuation book?”
“No. A mystery on my e-reader.”
“Which one?”
I mention a recent bestselling book. “The Body in the Bronze Coffin.”
“The butler did it.”
“Aaarghhh.” I smack him with a sofa cushion. “Blabbermouth.”
He yanks it from me, tosses it across the room. “Oh, wait. No. It was the maid.” His crooked smile makes me melt.
“You don’t know, do you?” I ask.
“No idea.”
“Why did you say it then?”
“To get you riled
“It suits you. Those pajamas. So, can I stay? I’ll sleep on the couch. It should open into a bed.”
“No. You can’t. You have your own room.”
“It’s miles away.” The sulk is not a good look for him.
“It’s two floors up.”
“It’s too big.” Trying to stand, he sways instead and ends up knocking his head against the wall. “Ouch.”
My lip curls up with disapproval. “You’re drunk.”
He holds up a couple of fingers. “I had two beers, that’s all. Please, let me stay.”
I whoosh out a breath. What harm would it do to let him stay? He’ll probably pass out on the couch as soon as he falls into it. “Fine. But you’re sleeping on the sofa bed.”
Looking affronted, he jerks up straight. “I said I would.”
Yeah, he did. Opening the door wide, I invite him into my room. “Come in.”
“Thank you.” He swaggers in like he owns the place. “Where’s the bathroom?”
God, I hope he doesn’t have to puke. “Follow me.” I grab his hand and lead him in that direction. When we get there, I press his hand against everything he should need. “Towels are here. Tub is here. Toilet is here.”
“I should take a shower, huh?” His brow wrinkles like that hadn’t occurred to him.
“Yeah, you should.”
“Join me.” His smolder is a thing of beauty, but I’m not falling for it.
“I already bathed. You hungry?”
“No. I already ate.” He removes his jacket and hands it to me, his shirt follows. When his hands go to his belt, the memory of the night he couldn’t remove it jets through my brain. We’re not going through that again. Nudging back his hand, I snap it loose. “Slacks, please.”
He kicks off his Oxfords, pulls down his zipper and slides off his pants. When he goes for his boxers, I yell. “Wait.”
“You don’t want to see?” He gives me a wicked smile while swaying on his feet. Two beers my ass. Unless I miss my guess, he’s had a lot more than that.
“Nope. I’m going to step outside the room. When I do, you will take off your drawers and hand them to me.”
“Very well.”
After he does what he’s told, I put everything in a laundry bag and hang it outside my door. Everything will be returned, dry cleaned or laundered by morning. But before I do, I empty his pockets—wallet, key card, condoms. If he was hoping to get lucky with me, he’s got another think coming. I lay everything on the coffee table next to the couch. After I grab some pillows from my bed and an extra blanket from the closet, I make up his bed.
Fifteen minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom with towels wrapped around his neck and waist and smelling like my shampoo and body wash. “Now I smell just like you.” He grins.
I bite my lip to fight off a smile. “The couch’s all ready for you.”
“Great.” Without once bumping into anything, he skirts the coffee table and drops on the couch. The furniture in his room must be laid out the same way as mine.
Once he slides under the blanket, he extends his hand. “Join me.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
He blinks, yawns. “Come on. I won’t bite. I just want to talk.”
Figuring he’ll fall asleep within a minute, I sit on the side of the sofa bed, a foot away from him.
With his hands folded behind his neck, he leans back into the pillows. “What were you doing before I arrived?”
Crooking one leg on the bed, I turn to face him.“Reading.”
He makes a face. “Not the valuation book?”
“No. A mystery on my e-reader.”
“Which one?”
I mention a recent bestselling book. “The Body in the Bronze Coffin.”
“The butler did it.”
“Aaarghhh.” I smack him with a sofa cushion. “Blabbermouth.”
He yanks it from me, tosses it across the room. “Oh, wait. No. It was the maid.” His crooked smile makes me melt.
“You don’t know, do you?” I ask.
“No idea.”
“Why did you say it then?”
“To get you riled
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