Page 68 of Vienna Bargain

Alexander paused, a vanity drawer open, and looked at her. “No, this is a bathroom.”

“Ha ha. I mean this,” she threw her arm back to gesture at the room behind her.

“Yes, it’s…it’s actually my room.”

Alena’s breath caught. “You mean the master suite.”

“There are several master suites, but this is mine. My private space.”

He fished out a box and held it to her. Alena popped two out of the blister pack, thought about it, and popped out a third before handing it back.

“I’ll bring you water.”

Alexander walked out, and Alena flowed behind him as he went to a heavy wood sideboard positioned on in the part of the room that made up the longer part of the L.

And from there, the alcove that contained the bed was visible. From the door, no one would be able to see the bed, and it was set far enough back from the windows that no one would be able to see it from the outside either.

His phone was plugged in on the nightstand, and it was such an unexpectedly normal sight that she just stared at it.

“Your phone is in Vienna.” Alexander held out a glass of sparkling water with ice in it.

“I wasn’t thinking about that, though that you for telling me.” She popped the pills into her mouth and washed them down.

“What were you thinking about…If you’re willing to tell me.”

“I was thinking that this really is your bedroom. In Vienna you took me to a guest room.”

“In Vienna you lied to me.”

The words were gentle, a reminder, not an accusation.

“I did. And I suspect you have many questions, though hopefully the most critical ones have been answered.” She walked to the sideboard, and started opening drawers and doors—one of which concealed a small fridge. Stocked with sparkling water, soda, and juice—all mixers—it clearly went with the liquor bottles neatly lined up in another cabinet, and the plethora of wine.

She stopped when she found what she was looking for. A coaster.

“You were looking for that?” He pointed at the small square of felt-backed stone.

“The woodwork on this piece is lovely.” She stroked the glossy top of the sideboard. “It would be a shame to damage it.”

“Alena,” His voice was soft. “Come here. You’re swaying.”

“More commands?” But she went to him, sliding back into his arms. “Can you sleep in those clothes?”

“Do you have a t-shirt and some boxers I can borrow?”

“You…want to sleep in my underwear.”

“Clean ones, you pervert. But yes, boxers aren’t that different from sleep shorts.”

“What are sleep shorts?” Alexander guided her down the hall, past the opening of the alcove where the massive bed waited, the comforter a beautiful shade of moss green, the pillows creamy white.

A recessed door opened into a large combination closet and dressing room. Most of the hanging space was bare, but there were a few zipped garment bags near the back. His suitcase, the one he’d brought from Vienna, was tucked into a corner.

Alexander opened a few drawers. Everything inside was tidy, and Alena felt weirdly jealous. Who had folded and put away his clothes?

He kept going, until he found a drawer which contained items still wrapped in tissue. He passed her a dove gray shirt so soft that it felt like silk, and a pair of black boxers, which actually were silk.

“Alexander, I know you’re wealthy, but please tell me you don’t buy designer underwear and t-shirts.” She pointed to the small circular sticker bearing the distinctive LV that had held the tissue around the boxers closed.

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