Page 78 of Filthy Rich Temptation
It’s all about the fun, remember.
Not, future family or forever.
Just fun!
And what fun last night was…
The memory sends my cheeks blazing – because yes, I asked for it, and yes, he delivered – but without the confidence-boosting champers in my system, I’m not feeling quite so cocky now.
Plus, I must look like hell.
Last night, the bubbles made me feel like Beyoncé.
This morning?
Like a gremlin who ate after midnight.
I fork my hand through my hair and it gets stuck in my day-old curls – ugh!
What was I thinking, leaving my room without glancing in a mirror?
I briefly consider tiptoeing back, but then his head turns and?—
‘Morning!’ I blurt, tugging the hand from my hair to raise it in a self-conscious wave while the other pulls on the hem of the Guns N’ Roses tee I threw on before bed.
‘Mummy!’ Lottie grins, her bunny-slippered feet kicking, though she doesn’t budge from Theo’s side. And really, who can blame her? If I had Theo’s arm wrapped around me, I wouldn’t move either.
Dangerous, dangerous thoughts.
‘Hey,’ Theo says softly, his eyes full of sympathy for my self-inflicted pain.
And to my horror, I get the weirdest urge to cry.
Ridiculous, I know. But compassion… for my hangover?
Danny would’ve laughed. Maybe tossed me a paracetamol like a dog treat – after I’d nursedhishangovers with pancakes and bacon and no complaint.
Or am I misreading Theo entirely?
Mistaking guilt for compassion in that overly warm gaze?
Is he worrying over what we did – whatIdemanded and he delivered?
I replay it all – every word, every touch, every feeling – and it shoots straight to my pulse, the throbbing ache almost as acute as the banging in my skull.
‘You okay?’ he says, his intent gaze stripping me bare.
‘Yeah.’ I grin too hard, too bright, desperate to show him I’m good. Because last night wasn’t just good. It waseverything. ‘Thanks for the meds.’
‘You’re welcome.’
His gaze dips to the hem of my tee, lingers, then lifts – darker, hotter. His throat shifts. Maybe I’m not the only one reliving last night…
Then I remember how Ilookand?—
‘Is there coffee?’ I ask weakly.
He nods, and I scarper with a swift, ‘Great. Thanks.’
