Page 78 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

She examines them both. They’re identical except for the bedding, one with light blue and one with light green. She chooses the light-green one, and I take her case in there for her and put it on the bed.

“Thank you.” She straightens the case. “Do you think they thought we were an item?”

“Almost certainly. Although why would we want a two-bedroomed apartment?”

“Yeah, I guess it is a bit weird.”

“It’s nobody’s business but ours,” I tell her gently. I look at my phone. “We’ve got a couple of hours. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“You want to go down to the bar? Or order something up?”

“The bar looked nice…”

I smile. “Let’s take ten and then we’ll head down.”

“Okay.”

She watches me go out of the room, and I close the door behind me.

I stand there for a moment, lips pursed. Why do I torture myself? I’m such a fucking idiot. Elora-Rose Bell is in the same apartment, in the room next door, and I can’t touch her. I mustn’t. She’s forbidden fruit, and as much as I find the thought incredibly tempting, I like her too much to make a move on her. She’s precious to me, and the absolute last thing I want to do is hurt her. So I’ll have to keep my distance and do my best to ignore the ache in my belly and lower down that isn’t going to disappear anytime soon.

Blowing out a long breath, I take my case into my room, unzip it and hang up my shirts, then flop back onto the bed.

I spend five minutes sulking. I’ll need to do a little DIY tonight or I’ll never be able to get to sleep.

Then I pull myself together and start getting ready. I expect we’ll be going from the bar to see Edmund, so I want to dress appropriately. A suit and tie will be too formal. A tee and jeans are too informal. Something in between.

I opt for chinos, a white Oxford dress shirt, no tie, and a navy jacket.

I shaved this morning, and don’t feel the need to do so again, but I splash on a little more cologne and clean my teeth. I’m just combing my hair when the bathroom door that leads to Elora’s room opens and she walks in.

“Oh!” Her eyes widen as she sees me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were in here.”

“I’m only combing my hair,” I say, amused. I stare at her. “Wow. You look nice.”

She’s changed into a long dark-blue skirt and a flowery pink top. She looks young and sexy and like a piece of summer, a strawberry you’d eat at Wimbledon, sweet on the tongue.

And now I’m thinking about going down on her, and tasting her, and making her come with my mouth. Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Thank you.” She wrinkles her nose at me, then faces the mirror. “Are you feeling nervous about seeing Edmund?”

“I…” Words flutter away like butterflies as I watch her unpin her bun and let her hair fall down around her shoulders. She runs her fingers through it, loosening the curls, then, obviously realizing I haven’t answered, meets my gaze in the mirror, and her hands stop moving.

“What?” she asks.

I shake my head. I’m hard as a rock, and it takes all my willpower not to sweep her up into my arms, carry her through to the bedroom, toss her onto the bed, and make mad passionate love to her.

But I can’t do that. I don’t know how she’d react, for a start. She might freeze. Panic. And lose all the trust she has in me. Ahhh… that’s the last thing I would want.

I swallow and moisten my lips. “Nothing.”

She looks down at herself. “Do I look okay? I wanted to wear something nice to meet Edmund and Isabel.” She laughs. “Why am I nervous?”

“I don’t know,” I say, although I love her for it. She’s anxious because she knows meeting this guy means a lot to me, and she cares for me. “You look fantastic,” I tell her. My voice comes out a little squeaky, and I have to clear my throat. “Thank you so much for going with me. It means a lot.”

“Aw, it’s a big deal for you. Glad I could help.” She finishes titivating with her hair, slicks on some lip gloss, then says, “Ready to go down?”

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