Page 45 of Resisting Mr Black

“It’s my job to. Besides, I needed to know what I was taking on with the hotel.”

I remember his comments about weddings being the primary source of income from the staff meeting. “You’d already done all your research before you came to the hotel the other day, hadn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What were your first impressions of the place when you walked in?”

“I wanted to know who the sexy pocket rocket on reception was.”

That wasn’t what I meant. I smile. “Pocket rocket?”

He brushes the tip of his nose against mine and stares into my eyes. “I hadn’t had a dressing down like that in quite some time.”

“And there I was worried I’d offended my new boss,” I tease.

“You intrigued me, and I wanted to know more.” He presses a light kiss to my forehead. “I still do.”

I can live with that.

We lie on the sofa, a mass of tangled limbs with him still deep inside me for what seems like forever. Our bodies mould together perfectly as if we were made for one another. A column of sunlight slips through the curtains and creeps across the floor as the sun rises higher in the sky.

“Are you hungry?” he asks after a while.

“Starving.”

He shifts off me and sits on the edge of the sofa. “We’ll take a shower, then I’ll make you breakfast.”

I prop myself up on my elbows and frown. “Is there time? I really need to head home and get ready for work.”

“We’re not going into work today.”

“What?” I frantically glance around the living room for any sign of a clock, but there isn’t one. He must be joking, surely. Apart from two framed photos over by thefireplace, it’s all very minimalistic in design. I know I haven’t got any appointments but there’s planning to get done.

“But I’ve got work to do.”

“Your diary was free for today. I checked when I visited the hotel earlier.”

This feels totally alien. I’ve never bunked off from work before and my expression must say it all.

“Relax. I’m the boss and I’m telling you that you’re staying here with me all day. Decision made. I want you all to myself.”

Part of my brain is querying why the hell I’m challenging spending an entire day with him but it’s so against my character I can’t help it. “But Lucy will worry, and people will talk, and I’ve got no clothes here.”

He turns to face me in all his delightful nakedness. “Text Lucy. Tell her you don’t feel well so you’re not going in. Let people talk. And you can wear some of my stuff.”

Before I can argue, he scoops me up and carries me through the apartment into the bathroom. I don’t fight it. I love the feel of him holding me and the way the curves of our bodies fit together perfectly.

I’m going to get lost in him too, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it.

Twelve

Amagnificent roll top bath sits in front of a Georgian sash window, dominating the bathroom. Dove grey panelling lines the walls and large white hexagonal tiles cover the floor and decorate the large walk-in shower.

Art sets me on my feet then turns on the water which cascades from the large chrome shower head and fills the room with steam. He steps beneath the shower and closes his eyes, slicking back his hair as the water sluices across the undulations of his body. He notices me watching him and holds out a hand. “Come and join me.”

I place my hand in his, and he pulls me to stand beneath the torrent of water, placing his hands on my shoulders and turning me round so he’s behind me. I shut my eyes and push my hair out of my face and hear the click of plastic. His hands return to my shoulders as he slides cool, soapy liquid across my shoulder blades, massaging it into my back. A familiar sandalwood fragrance mingles with the heat from the shower and permeates the air.

“I hope you don’t mind having to smell like me.”

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