Page 36 of Tempting God

“Welcome, Ms. Blanc,” the man greets me.

“Hello. Is my room ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He glances over my shoulder and dips his head. “Mr. Carter, I have your key as well. You’re in Penthouse Suite 3.”

I ask, “What about me?”

He blinks. “You’re in Penthouse Suite 3…”

Unease creeps up my spine. “We’re in the same room?”

“Yes. Mr. Blanc called and made the reservation change himself.”

“What about the other rooms on reserve for the Brotherhood? Are they not available?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am.” He genuinely looks sorry. “I wish there was something I could do…”

Grant’s arm goes around my shoulder, and he says, “Forgive Ms. Blanc. She had a tiring flight. The suite is fine. Come, Greer. We need to get ready or we’re going to be late for the baby shower.”

A cold daze settles over me. He’s right. If I don’t change now, I am going to be late for the baby shower. Shrugging his arm off my shoulder, I grab my bags and head toward the elevator. We’re silent on the ride to the top floor. I’ve stayed in the penthouse suite before and know there are two bedrooms. Thank. God.

In the suite, I head for the secondary bedroom…only to find a pool table where the bed used to be.

“No.” I groan out the single word.

After searching the other rooms in the suite, I’m left with a terrible conclusion.

There’s only one bed.

Freaking hell.

Grant is in the shower in the connected bathroom when I enter the bedroom. His change of clothes is on one side of the bed, as if he knew I’d be in here. A dull ache forms behind my eyes. As much as I want to fight this, I don’t have the time or energy, really. So I’ll play along until the baby shower is over and then I’ll get my own room, even if it means going to another hotel.

Grant walks out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam behind him. A white towel is wrapped around his waist, hanging low enough that I see the dips in his hips.

“See something you like, Little Fae? I can take off the towel to give you a better look if you want…”

Heat licks at my skin, but I say, “You wish.”

Grabbing my bag, I shove past him, going into the bathroom. Just for good measure, I lock the door behind me.

His scent lingers in the air as I turn on the water to the shower. God, why does he have to smell so good? It’d be a lot easier to hate him if he smelled bad.

The thought has me smiling as I step under the spray of the water. My body aches from what we did on the plane, so the hot water feels good. I press my head against the shower wall. I wonder what Grant would say if he knew that he was the first person I’ve been with in nearly two years? Since Alessandro Moretti, to be exact. Sure, I’ve had chances to hook up with people, but none of them compared to Grant. The encounters I have had since that night at Unfortunate Souls left me feeling dirty and unfulfilled. It wasn’t worth it. But this…this was.

Reaching for my shampoo, I wash my hair. His body wash is next to mine, and I reach for it, smelling it. Without thinking, I squirt some onto the washcloth and lather it up. My nipples harden as I wash myself using his soap. He’ll likely never even know, making it my own dirty little secret.

I hate that I’m wet between my legs by the time I finish showering. If I had more time, I would have taken care of the ache, but I’m already running late. Using the towel to dry off, I step out of the shower. I dry my hair and then use a round brush to give my short bob some volume. I keep my make-up light, since I’m going to a baby shower, but add my signature red lip. The dress I’m wearing is a deep green that shows off my curves and makes me feel like a million bucks. I need all the confidence I can get today. For more reasons than one.

Exiting the bathroom, I find Grant sitting on his side of the bed. He stands, eyeing me.

“Is that appropriate for a baby shower?”

“As appropriate as what you’re wearing,” I answer.

I grab my purse, making sure my phone and room key are inside, and head for the door. Grant, of course, follows. The same car that brought us to the hotel is outside, waiting. I climb into the backseat without a word.

Grant stills when he’s next to me. Leaning closer, he sniffs at my neck.

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