Page 84 of Charming Deception

“Has this side always been empty?” I ask him. The woman’s side has nothing in it except my bags. He hasn’t mentioned much about his relationship history to me, but if I’m standing in some ex’s closet, I’d like to know.

He slips his hands into his pockets. “Yes, it has. I told you I’m not looking to get married. I’ve had girlfriends, but never a live-in girlfriend.” His eyes meet mine, and I look away.

I drift my fingers along the display case atop the island in the center of the room. The sleek glass top reveals velvet trays within for housing jewelry. It’s empty, too.

I circle the island, until I face the twin entrances into the bedroom; his and hers. Through his, there’s a clear view of the head of the bed.

And there are no doors to close for privacy.

Which means that if he was lying in the bed, he’d have a partial view into the closet.

The thought of him lying there, watching some former girlfriend get undressed, makes me slightly queasy.

Jealousy.

Which is weird since that imaginary woman isn’t here. She’s not his girlfriend anymore.

I’m not either.

“There are no doors,” I point out.

“We each have our own bathroom. Mine’s over there.” He tips his chin toward the far corner, at the back of his side of the closet, where there’s an open doorway. “Yours is through there.” He nods at the identical doorway at the back corner of my side.

“Can I go look?”

“Of course.”

I go through the doorway, which also has no door, and find a short hall to the left. It turns right, then left again, and opens into the large, airy bathroom. The top third of the walls have frosted windows letting in soft moonlight. As soon as I step onto the white tile, the lights come on, a soft, warm glow.

There’s a large glassed-in shower and a freestanding bathtub, and a sitting area.

Anyone could wander in from the bedroom, no doors to imply privacy, no sound made by footsteps at all. And watch whoever’s in that glass shower.

Maybe that’s the point.

Jameson has followed me into the room and watches me as I take it all in. Maybe he has a thing for watching?

My heart is beating so hard, I feel like he can see it.

I turn to him and try to sound calm. “You have something against doors?”

His tone remains neutral when he says, “If you need privacy, the toilet is through there.” He indicates the lone actual door in the far corner. “There’s enough room in there to get changed. And I won’t come in here. This is your space.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll let you get ready for bed. If there’s anything you need, just let me know. It should be fully stocked. And feel free to put away your things. I would’ve had Clara unpack for you, but I thought you’d prefer if I checked with you first.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll unpack myself.”

He nods. “I’ll be in bed.” He delivers those words in a low, soft voice, and heat flashes through my body.

I look away, feeling downright dizzy. “Good night.”

There’s the slightest pause. “Good night, Megan.”

He slips out.

Goose bumps spread across my skin in the wake of his voice, and I stare at the open doorway where he disappeared.

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