Page 76 of The Retreat
Imogen’s grin was lazy now. ‘Forget her.’
‘I already have,’ Talia assured her.
Their fingers found each other beneath the sheets, the touch feather-light, like they were still feeling out the edges of whatever this was.
‘So what happens now?’ Talia asked.
And Imogen didn’t know. Not for sure. But she knew what she wanted to happen.
‘When we get home,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t want this to stop.’
Talia nodded once, serious. Then she slid closer until their foreheads touched. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ she whispered. ‘I want to do this. With you. If you want it.’
Talia smiled. ‘I want it.’
She leaned in again, and Imogen’s tiredness suddenly vanished.
Fifty-Three
Talia woke to the flat grey of early morning seeping through the hotel curtains. For a second, she couldn’t remember where she was or why she felt so fucking good. Until she turned her head and saw Imogen asleep beside her. And then last night came rushing back. The absolute best sex of Talia’s entire life. It wasn’t even close.
Imogen lay on her side, her blonde hair good and sex-tousled, her full lips parted slightly. Her face was relaxed in sleep. She was farcically beautiful in repose. But Talia would have expected nothing less.
She lay still for as long as she could justify, trying to burn the image of Imogen into her memory. She wanted to live in this moment.
Then she saw the clock. ‘Oh fuck.’
Imogen stirred and opened her eyes. ‘No, I can’t put in a catheter!’ she cried.
Talia laughed. ‘You’re having a nightmare. But it’s over.’
Imogen’s eyes brightened as she came back to the world. ‘Oh my god. Patrick Dempsey was screaming at me to help a clown give birth to a balloon animal,’ she said, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Talia chuckled, propping herself up on one elbow to look at her. ‘Well, Patrick Dempsey can deal with that by himself. Your medical career is over.’
‘Thank god,’ Imogen muttered, eyes still half-closed. ‘I think my subconscious is trying to report me to the General Medical Council.’
Talia smiled, the affection blooming before she could stop it. She reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind Imogen’s ear. ‘You’re safe now. No more catheters.’
Imogen smiled.
‘One last little crisis, though. It’s ten to nine and we’re supposed to check out at nine,’ Talia told her reluctantly.
Imogen’s smile dropped. ‘Christ.’ She jumped out of bed and started packing. She turned to Talia. ‘What are you still doing lying there? Come on!’ she cried.
Talia chuckled and got out of bed. ‘I like this bossy side of you. It’s hot.’
‘Stop flirting, start packing,’ Imogen commanded, trying not to grin and failing.
They dressed and packed without further conversation. Talia tried not to think of what waited for her beyond the room. She didn’t want to go out there. Didn’t want to see Jade’s smirk or the look of disgust on Marcus’s face. And she certainly didn’t want to see victory on Daniel’s mug.
She glanced at Imogen once more before zipping her case. Imogen met her gaze steadily. And she felt a little better, a little braver.
It was on the dot of nine when they finally left the room, dragging their cases along the corridor carpet. Maybe everyone had already gone?
But as they walked down the staircase, Talia knew she’d been crazy to think she could have been so lucky. There was a bit more humiliation waiting for her.
