Page 15 of Captivated By You

And then I saw it. Nestled on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

A note—and a red rose.

Fuck. Me. Where had he gotten a red rose from this early on a Saturday morning? I scooched over and picked up the note.

Thank you for last night. I’ll never forget it. Sorry I had to leave. Business meeting. There’s food in the fridge. The door self-locks. Have a safe flight to Chicago.

PS: Don’t give up hope. Things will work out.

Yeah, easy for Mr. Moneybags to say. I wasn’t sure whether he’d pissed me off by leaving me alone or whether I felt relieved at not having to deal with the dreaded morning after awkwardness. I decided on both, even though that made no sense.

I smelled the rose—de-thorned, no less—then held it to my chest and flopped back onto the pile of pillows. Only for a second. My flight was due to leave in four hours, and I had to find my way back to the hotel, pack my overnight bag, check out, and then head to the airport.

Tossing the covers to one side, I scooped up my clothes—walk of shame, here I come—and went in search of the bathroom.

The first door I tried opened into a walk-in closet bigger than my entire bedroom back home.

Nice array of designer suits.I touched a few of them, the material heavy and clearly expensive.

The second door I tried was the right one. Wow. Fancy bathroom. Huge swim-in tub, dual sinks—bit pointless for a bachelor—a toilet that had the seat down. Extra points to Ant. And a shower that, if I wasn’t careful, would make me miss my flight.

I flicked it on, and in seconds, the glass steamed up. I stepped inside, sighing as needles of hot water pelted my skin. God, imagine showering in here every morning. Amazing. Beat our shower back home, although since my brothers had moved out a couple of years ago, at least I got hot water. They used to pinch it all and then taunt me about it, saying cold water was good for circulation or some such shit.

Eventually, I had no choice other than to force myself out of the shower. I dried off with towels that were warm and fluffy, and all I could think was how I wished Ant were here. Stupid, really, considering I’d known what I was getting into. But as I’d drifted off to sleep last night after more orgasms than I could count, I’d fantasized about washing his buff body, maybe sucking him off in the shower, and then we’d have breakfast together and enjoy a lingering kiss goodbye.

Still, being here alone gave me a chance to have a bit of a snoop around. Shoes in hand, I padded through to the living room I’d only glimpsed last night as Ant had hauled me to his bedroom. What a view. I stepped closer to the window. The people dashing about looked so small from all the way up here, and the waterfront was even more spectacular than from ground level.

How the other half lived.

I circled the perimeter, pausing to check out a few arty photos of Seattle at night. There were a few of Ant, too, with whom I presumed were his parents, and a couple of him as a child with two other boys who had to be the brothers he’d mentioned. He was a looker even as a kid. Unlike me, who’d blossomed, as my mother liked to say. As a child, I’d been gawky with lank hair and crooked teeth. Three years I’d worn braces, suffering merciless teasing from my brothers and cruel taunts at the hands of the resident school bullies. It’d been worth it in the end, although I’d hit my twenties before I admitted that to myself.

It felt weird being alone in a stranger’s apartment. I had to hand it to him, though. He was a trusting soul. For all he knew, I could bleed him dry. Strip the place and make a killing by selling off my spoils. Then again, if he was as rich as I suspected, he probably wouldn’t notice a few missing trinkets.

I cobbled together a fruit salad topped off with natural yogurt. I wasn’t all that hungry and didn’t want to make a mess by cooking hot food. As soon as I washed up and put the bowl back where I’d found it, I slipped into my shoes, grabbed my purse, and left.

I found my way back to the hotel easily enough, and in minutes, I’d packed, paid the bill, and was in a cab on the way to the airport.

For some stupid reason, as the city skyline swept by, the back of my throat went dry and my eyes stung.

No. No way. I wasnotabout to cry. Not over one unbelievable night of sex. I shook my head at the ridiculousness of it.

I might not have a reason to visit Seattle again, but I’d leave a piece of my heart behind, courtesy of a stranger whose real name I’d never know.

Chapter6

Asher

Kiana is better than Ethel.

I joggedup the steps in front of Kingcaid Continental’s flagship hotel and marched into the lobby. The concierge spotted me immediately and rose from behind his desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Kingcaid.”

I dipped my chin in greeting and strode past without stopping. I caught Curtis’s frown before he returned to his seat. Whenever I visited this site, I always stopped to share a few words, ask about his wife and kids, but not today. Ever since I’d woken beside “Ethel” this morning, the fury I’d kept under wraps all night burst to the surface. That a trusted member ofmy staffthought he could touch a woman without her permission, and at a goddamn interview, had enraged the fuck out of me. I was known for my calm approach and genial manner, but if Brandon fucking Forster thought he was going to get away with this, the man was in for a rude awakening.

I’d yearned for nothing more than to stay in bed, to bury myself in my perfect stranger one more time before I had to let her go. A marathon sex session hadn’t appeased my hunger for her one bit, but I’d made the mistake of looking at my phone and had seen the information I’d asked Priya to send in my inbox, and I’d known I couldn’t hide my anger. So I’d snuck out and made my way to the hotel, where I could review this information in private and then decide on next steps.

Kate, one of the receptionists, greeted me with a warm smile. “Mr. Kingcaid. How nice to see you. Mr. Forster isn’t due in until this afternoon. Would you like me to call him for you?”

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