she could just concentrate on that and not think about how he was tugging at strings she didn’t want tugged. Making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Making her vulnerable.
No, no, no. Not vulnerable. In control. Swinging her case onto the bed, she unzipped it with a firm tug and pulled out her one and only black dress. She slid the mirrored wardrobe door open to search for a coat hanger…
A row of after five dresses met her eyes, neatly arranged in colour from black through to white. Her stomach clenched, her fingers went limp. But only for a moment. Had the woman left her designer underwear too? Throwing her own cheap cotton dress on the bed, she flung open cupboard doors, yanked out drawers, rifling through briefs, boxers, socks.
She found an abundant supply of condoms in the top bedside drawer. An overabundance, in her opinion. She slammed the drawer shut. At least he was responsible, but did he have to be such a boy scout about it?
‘Ellie? I heard noises. What are you doing?’
She swivelled her head to see Matt the love rat at the doorway. The way he stared at her, brow furrowed, eyes questioning…Damn it, he made her feel as if she was looking for his hidden stash of cash.
She realised she was holding a pair of black briefs and dropped them back in the drawer. Lifted her hands away from his underwear.
‘The condoms are in the top drawer,’ he said, leaning lazily against the doorjamb. ‘In case you were wondering.’
‘Yes, I know. I was wondering why you’ve asked me here when you’ve clearly got plenty of female company to keep you occupied.’
His gaze followed hers to the open wardrobe and his expression cleared. ‘I forgot to mention them. They’re for you to choose something to wear this evening. I had the boutique from downstairs bring them up, but if the size isn’t right…’ He trailed off at her glare.
‘So my clothes aren’t good enough?’ She felt like three kinds of an idiot, accusing him without cause.
He frowned. ‘You were the one who said you didn’t have anything suitable to wear.’
Oh. Right. ‘I didn’t expect…Look…I’m sorry, okay?’ She waved a vague hand at the jumbled drawers. ‘I don’t need you to—’
‘Just choose something. That purple or the turquoise.’ His voice rumbled, water-smoothed stones beneath a deep-flowing river.
She could almost hear him say, One that comes off easily at the end of the evening. Could see it in the way his eyes seared her skin.
Or maybe he was saying, We can be late…
All the air left her lungs. She was tempted, so tempted, to walk on over and push his T-shirt up, kiss her way across that firm, hard abdomen and distract him from his work…‘Okay,’ she heard herself murmur as if she stood somewhere outside of herself.
He gave her a heated look, but then, just when she thought she’d been right all along, he glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll leave in thirty minutes.’
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