Page 10 of One Night in My Rival's Bed

‘Where do you live? Oh, and you’d better give me your phone number in case we need to communicate,’ Grayson said, taking out his phone again.

I rattled off my details and watched as he entered them in his phone with his two strong thumbs moving over the keys with such rapidity it made my single finger pecking look infantile. He pinged me a text and I then had his number. I felt a strange sense of accomplishment at having it in my possession. I was probably never going to be on his speed dial, nor he on mine, but still. At least I could contact him in an emergency.

On the way back to our cars a short time later, we walked shoulder to shoulder in the cool night air. It had finally stopped raining and the air smelt of summer stocks and jasmine and damp earth. The moon had peeped out from behind the clouds, casting a silvery glow over the wet pavement.

‘What will you do if Ethan doesn’t answer your text?’ I asked. ‘I haven’t been able to contact Niamh. I think she’s turned off her phone.’

‘I got a reply from him when you went to the bathroom just then.’

Okay, so I didn’t really need to take a leak, but I did want to peek at the penthouse bathroom. I wasn’t disappointed. It was stunningly appointed with brass and Italian marble with ideal configurations for someone with limited mobility.

‘Oh, what did he say? Is Niamh with him? Is she all right?’

‘They’re both fine and they’ve agreed to have breakfast with us,’ he said, stopping as he got to my car.

‘Well, that is good news.’ I unlocked my car but before I could open the driver’s door Grayson’s hand moved past my body to do it for me. ‘Oh, thank you...’ I know I should have got in the car and shut the door but I stayed where I was—in the space between the open door and his strong tall body. I slowly brought my gaze up to meet his and my stomach did a complicated somersault that would have scored a perfect ten at a gymnastics event.

Our eyes locked. My mouth went dry. My heart rate soared. A car horn bleated, jarring me out of my stasis. ‘Gosh, that was loud.’

‘Yes, it was.’ Grayson looked down into my upturned face, his eyes moving between each of mine before flicking to my mouth. I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth and the rich dark stubble that surrounded it. I wondered what it would feel like against my skin. I had to curl my fingers into my palms to stop myself from lifting them to his face to find out.

‘Erm, so half-six then, right?’ I sounded like a nervous teenager agreeing to her first date with the high school heartthrob.

His eyes were still on my mouth. ‘Yep.’

I let out a shaky breath and stretched my lips into one of my tight no-teeth-showing smiles. ‘Well, goodnight.’

‘’Night.’ He stepped back and I did a pretty ungainly job of getting myself into my seat. I admire the royals and celebrities who have mastered the art of entering and exiting a car with such elegant grace.

Grayson closed my door and stood back and watched me do an even worse job of getting out of the tight parking space. I stalled the car and ground the gears and gritted my teeth until my jaw clicked. I caught a glimpse of him in the rear-view mirror, still looking at me inscrutably as I drove off.

I tried to go to sleep as soon as I scrubbed off my make-up and brushed out my hair and flossed and cleaned my teeth. I counted sheep and cows and chickens to no avail. I was too wired for sleep. Too wound up with desire for a man I knew I should keep well away from. I don’t do playboys. I don’t do one-night stands. I don’t do mortal enemies. But then, since I broke up with my ex, I haven’t done anyone. Maybe my long period of celibacy was why I was reacting to Grayson in such an out of character way.

But I must have finally drifted off because when I woke it was six-fifteen. I sat bolt upright in my bed, my eyes still gritty from my poor night of sleep, my hair in such a tangle it made a rat’s nest look neatly coiffed. I swore and threw off the bedcovers and rushed to the shower. There wasn’t time to wash and blow-dry my hair, so I put on a shower cap instead.

With four and a half minutes to spare, I checked myself in my full-length mirror. My dark brown hair was pulled back from my face in a smooth tight chignon at the back of my head. I was wearing white jeans with a silk shirt in a smoky grey. My make-up was understated but I’d highlighted my eyebrows with a kohl pencil, swiping a bit on my eyelids as well. I put on another pair of dangly earrings—I have lots of them in my jewellery kit. I have a skinny heart-shaped face so dangling earrings work well on me. Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I painted some lip-gloss on my lips and slipped my feet into a pair of high heels. I grabbed a jacket but from the look of the bright sky outside I probably wouldn’t need it.

The doorbell rang and my heart leapt to my throat. I drew in a calming breath and walked to the door to check the security camera panel. Grayson looked disgustingly refreshed, as if he had slept as soon as his head landed on his feather pillow, although his hair was still damp. He had shaved too, highlighting the chiselled planes of his lean jaw.

I pressed the intercom. ‘I’ll be down in a tick.’

‘No problem.’

I wanted to ask him up but I knew that was asking for trouble. The sort of trouble I wanted to stay away from, especially this early in the morning when I was tired and not in full working order. I needed a double shot of caffeine. And fast.

To my utmost surprise, Grayson had two takeaway coffees waiting in the car. The delicious aroma swirled around my nostrils and my mouth watered. I put on my seatbelt and glanced at him once he was behind the wheel. ‘Is one of these for me?’

‘Yep.’

I cocked my head at a suspicious angle. ‘How do you know how I take it?’

A ghost of a smile flirted with his mouth. ‘I took a guess. Long black, double shot, no sugar. Am I right?’

He was right, but I didn’t want him to be. I needed to keep my distance and how was I to do that when he did thoughtful things like bring me coffee first thing in the morning?

‘Yes.’ I reached for the coffee and breathed in its delicious aroma, then took a sip. It didn’t surprise me that the quality of the coffee was excellent. I had always known Grayson Barlowe had high standards—his body of award-winning work attested to that. The way he dressed, even when dressed casually as he was this morning, spoke of a man who valued quality.

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