Page 22 of Unbuttoning Her Brooding Boss

She stepped out of the car and slowly followed him towards the steps.

‘Don’t you need to check in with someone?’ Wouldn’t there be people around if this was a fancy hotel?

He turned and raised his brows at her.

‘Like a receptionist or a concierge or something?’ she elaborated.

He chuckled and shook his head. ‘The apartment is open—they know I’m coming. And I’ve been here before, so I know how it works.’

Had he brought a woman with him the last time he was here? She didn’t want to know.

‘This is anapartment?’

‘Yeah, this entire building is ours for the night.’

Not for the night. Not for her.

‘How...?’ She narrowed her eyes.Howhad the hotel known he was coming tonight? Wasn’t he earlier than planned? He’d been supposed to have a meeting withher...

But he was already climbing the stairs to that gorgeously ornate decking area.

‘Come and see inside,’ he called lazily.

Intrigued, she couldn’t resist following. She paused in the doorway, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the interior.

‘Come on!’ he teased.

The room wasn’t huge, but the interior was cool and inviting. A luxurious rug covered part of the polished wooden floor. The walls were painted white. A large painting hung over the mantelpiece. She knew it wasn’t a print but an original. Other art works adorned smaller spaces, and there was a sculpture displayed on a small plinth in one comer. Against the farthest wall there was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase—filled.

Sopretty. So beautifully designed to draw her deeper and deeper into its delights.

There was a plush sofa, large enough for two to stretch out on, and two armchairs. And through the other door she could see the bedroom. All pure white linen, wooden bed-frame and tranquillity.

‘You can see the pool from this window,’ he called to her, from the window by the sculpture.

She walked over and peered out.

The pool was a glorious green-blue, built to look like any natural pond to be found in the heart of that gorgeous forest. To the side of it there were a couple of items of furniture—but the one that caught her eye was a beautiful wicker four-poster daybed, its thick mattress and plump cushions clad also in pure white linen. White drapes hung on three sides to protect its occupants from the sun... and from prying eyes...

The romantic atmosphere couldn’t be denied.

‘This is a couples’ retreat.’ She glanced away, trying not to be impressed—or aroused. ‘This is all massage and seclusion and...’

Intimacy. Isolation.And a really,reallybig bed. Two beds, in fact. One indoors. One out.

‘Massage?’ he queried,notinnocently.

‘Yeah—you can’t tell me they don’t do massages and facials and deep tissue rejuvenation and stuff.’

‘You don’t like massage?’ he asked, his expression comically shocked. ‘I’d have thought massages would be your jam.’

Her ‘jam’? Oh, she didn’t think so.

‘They don’t work.’ She’d given her brother so many massages and they’d never helpedhim.

‘You’ve not been getting the right massages.’

He walked ahead of her, right into the bedroom.

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