Page 100 of Charming Deception

I mean, I came my brains out and he didn’t know that I knew that he did the same thing, and I watched.

But hey, we survived.

Which means we’re getting comfortable with each other, bit by bit.

Maybe it’s not that big a deal to him, but it is to me. I’ve never shared a bed with any man but Troy, and the last few years, I didn’t feel very safe, relaxed, or happy in that bed.

Right now, I’m relaxed. I slept like a baby.

I try to tell myself it’s the incredibly soft sheets and the lavender. And of course, the deep, intense, rolling orgasm in the middle of the night.

But Jameson put me at ease. He gets credit for that.

Which just makes me more uneasy that I spied on him last night, watched him in that intimate, private act. I’d kidded myself in the heat of the moment that maybe he was okay with it. Because, no doors.

But that was just a desperate excuse from a horny woman.

There’s no excuse for keeping something like that from him. It doesn’t even matter if he minds that I watched or not. It’s dishonest not to tell him.

But hell if I want to confess.

What if he gets mad? Embarrassed?

Asks me to leave?

All I know is he said he’s not having sex with me. Yet. I have no idea how he’d feel about me perving on him while he jerked off.

But I know I don’t want to leave. I’d be downright sad if he asked me to go, and pissed at myself for ruining this.

As I start to slide out of bed, I barely register the bedroom door opening before Clara strides in.

I startle, covering myself with the sheet as I do a quick side-boob check. Luckily, I’m covered, because she’s followed by a man.

He wears a white coat similar to Chef’s, and pushes a rolling food service cart in front of him, but he doesn’t look my way. Dishes rattle as he swiftly maneuvers the cart to the balcony. He opens the doors wide, letting in more fresh air and sunlight, and rolls it right outside.

“Good morning, Miss Hudson,” Clara says professionally. “I trust you had a nice sleep?”

“Uh, yes. Thank you.”

“If there’s anything at all I can do to make your nights more comfortable, please let me know.”

“I-I will.”

“Shall I get the shower running for you or draw you a bath?”

When I just stare at her, she prompts, “I can select an outfit for you and have it accessorized and ready for you when you step out.”

“Um.” I struggle with this information. “I don’t really have any accessories. I’m fine getting dressed on my own. But thank you.”

In the back of my mind, all I can think is Jameson cleaned up his mess last night, right? He wouldn’t leave that for his staff to deal with?

We stare at each other for a moment as my face flushes.

“I’ll get that shower running.” Clara turns on her heel and disappears into my bathroom, and a moment later, I hear the shower water distantly flowing.

When she emerges to find me still clutching the sheet to my collarbone, she suggests, “How about this? There’s a dressing gown in the bathroom for you. If you require any assistance or have any questions or concerns, simply pick up that phone.” She indicates the one on my night table. “Dial six and you’ll get my office. Or you can simply text me. That’s Mr. Vance’s preferred way of reaching me. I’ll send you my number right now.”

She pulls out a phone and taps out a text.

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