slept in this room.
Her blood thickened and, without realising, she slowed, hoping for a glimpse of something that told her more about the man beyond the obvious fact that he was tidy. She shook it away, reminding herself she knew all she needed to know. She wasn’t here for a tour. She was here to get clean.
‘This is the guest room,’ Matt said, opening a door further down. ‘The en suite’s through there.’ He gestured to another door on the far side of the room. ‘You should find everything you need. Meanwhile I’ll rustle up some clothes and leave them on the bed for you. When you’re done, can you find your way back to the kitchen?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘Take your time.’
She didn’t reply, just waited until he left before relaxing enough to take it all in. Beautiful in shades of green and white and gold. Big double bed, snow-white quilt. Elegant pictures of a bygone era on the walls. A view over the rose garden, dark spikes now, in the dead of winter.
In the bathroom, light spilled through a skylight, bathing a froth of fernery in one corner. She flicked a switch and an instant flood of heat rolled over her shoulders. Absolute decadence.
There was a double-headed shower and a bath big enough for three. The bath won. When it was full she sank in and let frangipani-scented bubbles soak away the grime.
Not so easy to soak away thoughts of Matt and the way their bodies had clashed out there in the muddy garden plot. It put another spin on getting down and dirty.
He’d been turned on.
At the memory of that hard, hot masculine wedge beneath her a bolt of heat shot to her core. Had he been turned on before or after she’d wiggled? And she’d reacted to that subtle prod like a frightened virgin.
Which was best all-round, she decided, diverting her concentration to scrubbing her skin until it tingled. It would give him yet another reason to think she wasn’t interested in him and leave her alone.
Admit it, Ellie. You want him. You want him bad.
As her sex slave, she told herself. That was all. That was all?
Yes, she decided, swirling the bubbles through her fingers, turn the social tables on him. So…if he was in here with her…She flopped back against the bath’s edge. She’d command him to start with her back. Keeping the best bits for last. Keeping the delicious anticipation to the max.
She have him kneel behind her, so close that she’d hear his heart beating, feel his breath against her hair. He’d lave beneath her ear, move on to her neck, her collarbone. Then he’d soap up those long, tanned fingers and drag them over her shoulders, down her breasts, stopping to massage her nipples, draw them out. Slowly…
She sneezed, an unwelcome explosion, dragging her out of the moment and back to reality.
And that reality appeared to be that she was, indeed, coming down with a bug. She could not afford to get sick. She needed as much work as she could get. Which reminded her she was in her employer’s bathroom, using Belle’s lotions and potions and fantasising about her nephew. For goodness’ sake.
She yanked out the plug and snatched one of the thick jade towels off the rack. Damn Matt. For making her want things she had no business wanting. Her employer’s nephew. A man way out of her league.
Impossible.
MATT knocked at the partially open bedroom door. When there was no answer, he entered carefully. He’d found one of Belle’s jumpers, a pair of soft jersey sweatpants and thick socks. As for underwear…She’d have to go commando for now.
And wouldn’t that be something to think about over steak and salad? He should have put the items on the bed and left, but the sweet floral scent seeping from beneath the door was too tempting to resist.
It had been a long time since his own bathroom had smelled like this. Feminine. Alluring. Inviting…
When he and Angela had shared an apartment. His jaw clenched. Those times were over. These days when he took a lover, it was his way or the highway. They used her place. He rarely slept the night. Sleeping implied a degree of intimacy he simply didn’t have. Didn’t want. Didn’t need.
He breathed the scent in again, deeply. What did he know of the girl on the other side of that door? By her own admission, she was a drifter. How long before she up and left? Where did she go and what did she do, and who did she do it with while she was there?
Still…Until then, he didn’t see a problem with them sharing something a little more personal when the gardening tools were packed away for the evening. And he could keep his word to Belle at the same time.
Unfortunately it couldn’t be tonight. He’d organised a meeting with the construction manager on one of his latest Melbournian projects but Cole had been tied up elsewhere until this evening. They’d arranged to meet over a beer later.
He didn’t intend to start something with Ellie tonight and not be able to finish it. When he got her naked, he wanted everything right. He wanted to take it slow, enjoy—
The sound of the bathroom door opening warned him to leave but it was already too late. Ellie wafted out on a cloud of scented steam and he waged a quick tug of war within himself. Her stifled yelp and the way she stood clutching her towel and damp underwear almost had a grin tugging at his mouth.
Until he got a better look at what she held in her hand. Fire-engine-red G-string, matching satin and lace bra. Surprise. Who’d have thought that beneath those ugly overalls…?
Remember Saturday night?
This was that same woman, and his pulse quickened, his mood sobering to something darker as the primitive side of him stirred to life. Her skin glowed a delicate peach. He imagined it was as soft and luscious as it looked. It took all his will not to stride right over there and sample it. Her legs, bared to her upper thigh, were perfection and she reminded him of a long-stemmed rose on a foggy day.
He couldn’t seem to look away. Couldn’t move. Felt as if his body had turned to stone. Inside his skin was another matter. His mouth was dry and his blood was surging south. Somehow he remembered why he was there, cleared his throat and lifted the bundle of clothes in his hands. ‘I’ll just put these on the bed…I’ve put the rest of your clothes in the washing machine. Would you like me to add those?’ He gestured to her bundle.
‘No.’
Her fingers tightened into a fist around it and he got that she was thinking of his hands on her G-string.
He almost groaned aloud. Way bad timing. A fleeting thought that he could ring Cole and postpone darted through his mind, but their meeting was important and he was a professional first and foremost. Business took priority.
‘Okay.’ He swallowed, then continued with, ‘If the trousers are too long you can roll the legs up or whatever…’ He thought it wiser not to mention underwear again.
‘Thanks.’ She didn’t move. ‘Was there something else?’
