Page 35 of No Strings Christmas

Or in an hour?

I smile until my cheeks hurt.

Tomorrow.

Even as I type the word I regret it, but I force myself to hit ‘send’. We both came into this with boundaries and rules. I’m just reminding us of them.

So you had a good day?

I settle back into the bath, smiling as I reply.

It was...better than expected. Yours?

Interesting.

I wait, as three little dots bobble on the bottom of the screen to indicate he’s still typing.

Your name came up.

My breath turns shallow.

With whom? And in what context?

I’ll explain tomorrow night.

That’s not fair.

Isn’t it?

I shake my head. His message zips in before I can reply.

You’re pouting, aren’t you?

I might be.

What else are you doing?

I bite down on my smile.

I’m in the bath.

Ah...

I smile, waiting for him to send something else. He doesn’t. Disappointed, I put my phone down. Ten minutes later, the doorbell rings.

It can’t be him. Can it? I climb out of the bath and grab a bathrobe, pulling it on and practically running towards the door, my heart pounding overtime.

‘Room service, madam.’

‘I didn’t order any—’

The waiter dips his head. ‘The order was phoned in. There’s a card.’

‘Oh.’ I eye the tray with a smile then nod towards the table. ‘Thank you.’

He moves into the suite, depositing the tray then leaving again. Once I’m alone, I move to the table with a sensation of butterflies in my tummy.

A bottle of champagne, which I recognise as the same label we shared the first night he came here. The night we met. I finger the neck with a rush of pleasure and a strange apprehensiveness. I lift the silver lid. Chocolates. Strawberries. My stomach squeezes. Sure enough, there’s a white envelope with my name on it.

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