Page 28 of Worth Every Risk

And then I remember I finished off the contents of the upstairs fridge last night.Damn it.I need to get better at stocking up. If I want to eat, I’ll have to creep to the basement for food. It’s so early that I’m pretty sure I’ll be safe, and it’s a Sunday.No one else is going to be up now, are they?

I take the stairs, all four flights, in the semi-darkness. The plush carpet is soft against my bare feet and I relish the feeling of squishing my toes into it with each step.

When I reach the basement, it’s quiet, but the air is thick with the distinctive smell of a hot sauna.Does no one ever turn it off? The energy bills in this house must be huge.

I’d really love to nip in there.But, no.That would be really foolish, wouldn’t it?

But the lure of the freshwater pool is too much.Maybe I can just take a peek. Calming spa music filters out into the hall, tempting me like a siren call.Don’t they ever turn that off, either? Perhaps they keep it running because Mr Hawkston is a vampire who stays up all night.

I laugh at this idea. I’ve seen so little of him, he could well be locked in a coffin somewhere. I’m not even sure he’s in the house at all. He could have gone away on business for all I know. He’s under no obligation to tell me about his comings and goings.

I figure that, even if he is in the house, it’s so early he won’t be up. I’m safe. I take the turn to the pool, and as soon as I enter the room, seeing the water calms me. Ripples reflect across the ceiling, giving it a silvery sheen. It’s like I’m standing in a mermaid’s lagoon.

I allow myself a few moments to absorb the energy. It’s pure luxury. Completely breathtaking. I’d have no idea people lived like this if I hadn’t seen it myself. I stay close to the walls, as ifmoving closer to the water poses a danger to my safety. I might not be able to resist jumping in.

A yawn blossoms, and I stretch my arms as my eyes close. Maybe I should have stayed in bed after all. This first week has been grueling; running after a four-year-old has been exhausting. She goes to a local nursery on Mondays and Tuesday though, so those are my days off.

I turn, smacking right into a huge wall of muscle. A burning hot, sweaty wall.

“Fuck,” Mr Hawkston growls.

My mind is a flurry of activity; a swirling mess of thoughts I can’t cling to. All I know is he’s half-naked yet again, and his hands are on my skin, and my pyjama top is now covered in his sweat.

I push away from him, or he pushes me off. I can’t tell because there’s a whole lot of skin-to-skin contact going on, and it’s impacting my brain’s ability to function.

His face is red, like he’s hot. Sauna. He’s obviously been in the sauna. There’s a white towel wrapped around his hips, but otherwise he’s all muscle.Hot, sweaty muscle. His breaths are coming fast.Is that because of the sauna too?

“What are you doing?” he says, his voice sharp, making my own anger spike. My response spills from my lips before I can stop it.

“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?”

There’s so much accusation in the question, it’s as if I’m blaming him for removing his clothes in his own home. I want to stuff my words back down my throat, but they’re long gone now. I can’t get them back.

His face is carved in stone. “Not in the sauna.”

Guilt spears me. All the times I’ve seen him shirtless it’s been in reasonable scenarios. It’s me that’s been in all the wrong places, creeping around the house when I shouldn’t be. I’m soflustered, it takes me a moment to gather myself enough to speak. “No. Of course not. Why would you? It’s hot in there. Sweaty.”Sweaty?Oh, my God.I can’t even talk to this man, and saying the word sweaty out loud has my gaze crawling all over his chest again. I blink to refocus. “Sorry. What time is it?”

“5.15.”

“5.15. Wow. You’re an early riser.”

“So are you, apparently.” His gaze is unforgiving, but I don’t miss the dart of his eyes towards my breasts, lingering over the damp fabric. My nipples tighten. If he doesn’t look away soon, they’re going to start winking at him. He might as well be tweaking them with his fingers. He drags his gaze back to my face. “I don’t believe in wasting time.”

“Oh.” That sounded way too breathless. A bit like a noise a porn star might make. Not one in the full swing, but maybe one who was revving the engine.Shit. My nipples are definitely hard now.

“But sleep isn’t wasted time,” I say, inwardly congratulating myself on managing to form a coherent sentence. I inhale fast, words flooding my mind, desperate to spill out; anything to distract myself from what’s going on in my body and the arousal that’s blossoming without my permission. “It’s essential to human survival. You know, like food and sex.”Sex?Dear Lord, I’m a mess.His eyebrow arches and heat rages up my neck and across my face. I force myself to continue, “I ran out of food upstairs. That’s why I’m down here. And then I could smell the sauna and I couldn’t resist coming in here. The pool is so beautiful. And the music… it’s so relaxing. I couldn’t resist.”Damn. I already said that.He’ll think I have no self-control.

His features are still hard. “I see that.”

I can’t stop staring.Shit. I haven’t seen him for days andthisis how I see him? All sweaty and half-naked? I need to saysomething quickly. My thoughts skirt back to the other times I’ve seen him shirtless.

“I’m so sorry about last week,” I blurt. “About bringing Lucie to your room after she wet the bed. I thought she was going to scream the house down if I didn’t, and I didn’t have clean sheets and I wasn’t sure if you would like it if she slept in my bed.”

If he thinks it’s weird that I’m mentioning this a week later, he doesn’t show it because he responds calmly. “Mrs Minter said she left you a note with the details about sheets. She’s very thorough. Didn’t you read it?”

I wince. Yes, I read itafterthe bed-wetting incident. Well, I read the first half when I arrived, but I got distracted right around the part where I was supposed to make a shopping list of food to stock my fridge. Clearly, I’m failing on that front too. “I found the sheets in the morning.”

This seems to satisfy him. “Good. And, so we’re clear, Lucie doesn’t sleep in my room. Ever. Can you make sure she knows that? If it happens again, I want you to deal with it. Tell her she cannot sleep in my room and hold that line, so I don’t have to do it in the middle of the night. That’s your job. Please make sure you’re doing it.”

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