Page 6 of One Night in My Rival's Bed

The lift stopped on the top floor and the doors opened on another gentle whisper. Grayson held the lift door open with one muscular arm while I stepped past him, conscious of his inscrutable gaze on me, and doing my level best not to trip or fall flat on my face.

He led the way to an apartment down the wide carpeted corridor and then pressed some more numbers into another keypad outside the door.

‘Wait. Aren’t you going to knock or ring the doorbell first?’ I asked. ‘Ethan and Niamh might be...you know...busy.’ As euphemisms go, busy didn’t quite cut it but I was determined not to mention the word ‘sex’ in front of him. I could already feel the heat in my cheeks and in my lower body.

Grayson glanced down at me, still frowning. ‘Right...’ He pressed the doorbell with his eyes still holding mine. Then, when there was no answer, he arched one dark eyebrow. ‘Do I have your permission to enter now?’

I wasn’t one hundred percent sure if he intended it as a double entendre but, all the same, I could feel myself flushing to the roots of my hair.

‘Yes,’ I said and blushed all the more because I was starting to think if he asked me to have sex with him I might indeed say yes. Not because I was interested in a relationship with him—I was over long-term relationships with men. But I figured it would be kind of interesting to experience a one-night stand with Grayson Barlowe. For research purposes. To see if the chemistry I was sensing between us was a real thing or a figment of my imagination.

The apartment door opened. The penthouse apartment door, actually. I tried not to look too impressed at the stunning décor, or gape at the view of Finsbury Park out of the large bank of windows in the spacious sitting room. I see gorgeous houses and apartments all the time. Many of them I’ve designed myself. I earn a very comfortable living and I’ve paid heaps off my pretty little townhouse’s mortgage but it could be years and years before Niamh and I could ever live in a penthouse. Or have a view over a park.

Well, it seems Niamh could do if she married Ethan Barlowe.Just saying...

I pushed the thought away as quickly as it formed. My sister couldnotrush into marriage after only six weeks. She didn’t know Ethan well enough. Marrying someone was a big commitment, and there were issues to consider regarding their levels of disability. Issues they might not have thought through in the heady rush of falling madly in love. If indeed they had fallen in love. I’ve had my fair share of infatuations over the years, so I understood how convincing those feelings can be at the time.

Grayson wandered through the apartment but I stayed put in front of the windows overlooking the park. I chewed my lower lip, mentally working through some of the issues the young couple might have to face. They both had disabilities that might impact on how they lived together. Surely they needed to spend a little more time considering how well-suited they werebeforethey got married? It’s too late once the ink is dry on a marriage certificate. I wish my parents had thought a little more about it before they said, ‘I do.’ Of course, in blindingly bright hindsight, I now realise I too should have considered whether or not Ryan and I were as well-suited as I wanted us to be. But I was in stubborn denial and had my head buried so deep in the sand I’d hit water and I couldn’t see through the bubbles for how bad things actually were.

‘They’re not here.’ Grayson spoke from behind me.

I turned to face him, struck again by how flipping gorgeous he looked even when he was frowning and glaring.

‘Where else could they have gone?’

‘Your sister’s place?’

‘Niamh lives with me.’

His hands were resting on his slim hips and his frown deepened. ‘And youstilldidn’t know anything about Ethan and her being involved?’ The heavy scepticism in his tone annoyed me.

My back straightened, my gaze blazed, my blood boiled. ‘Why do you keep suggesting I’ve colluded with them over their relationship? I had absolutely no idea she was seeing him. How do you know it wasn’t him manipulating her, hmm?’ I folded my arms in a defensive pose and added, ‘That’s the more likely scenario, in my opinion.’

‘So when and where have they been alone together?’ He seemed to be saying it to himself rather than me, his right hand going to his head to do that finger-combing thing again.

‘Maybe they haven’t been alone together a lot. Maybe you don’t need to be when you meet The One.’

Grayson’s steely gaze came back to mine and my stomach shivered like a shaken jelly. ‘Since you have more experience than I do in such matters, I’ll have to take your word for it.’

‘Actually, my ex wasn’t The One,’ I found myself confessing. I unfolded my arms and dropped them by my sides and sighed. ‘I just pretended to myself for way too long that he was.’ Even three years on, I still cringe at how stupid I was to think Ryan and I were going to be together for ever.

‘Who broke it off?’

‘I did.’

There was a beat or two of silence.

‘Why?’ Grayson asked.

‘He didn’t want Niamh to be my bridesmaid.’

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly. ‘Good call. You were together for what, a year or two or more?’

I was secretly impressed he didn’t question the curtain coming down on my relationship but I wondered how he knew how long I had been going out with my ex. Ryan worked in the financial sector. He had no interest in architecture—another madly flapping red flag I should have noted earlier. I hadn’t taken Ryan to any architectural awards ceremonies after the first time I was nominated for an award early in our relationship. He’d drunk too much because he was nervous for me—or so he said. Looking back now, I think he’d drunk because he was jealous of the attention I received.

‘Three, actually. But it wasn’t just about that.’

‘What was it about?’ Grayson’s voice had softened to a gentle burr of sound that did strange things to my heart rate. As far as I know, I haven’t got a heart condition but when I’m around Grayson Barlowe I swear I could have a hole in my heart or a murmur or a leaky valve, or all three.

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