“So,” I began, eyeing him warily. “Where am I supposed to sleep? There’s only one bed. If you think for one second I’m bunking on that pathetic excuse for a couch, you’ve got another thing coming.” I sniffed disdainfully, letting my gaze roam over the pristine space with thinly veiled distaste. “Honestly, I expected better accommodations from a supposed billionaire.”
Matt threw back his head with a rich laugh that had absolutely no business making my pulse kick up like that. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his eyes dancing with wicked amusement. “We can share the bed.”
I leveled him with a flat stare. “Yeah, no thanks. I’d sooner sleep in a ditch.”
As if on cue, my traitorous stomach chose that moment to let out a pitiful growl. I flushed, silently cursing my empty gut for betraying me like that in front of this arrogant prick.
“Hungry?” Matt asked, his lips curved in a shameless grin.
“Starving,” I bit out, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.
He chuckled again, low and far too indulgent for my liking. “I’ll order something in.”
Matt left to shower after ordering some food for me. I sprawled on the plush sofa, flicking through the channels with reckless abandon. The remote control felt alien in my hand, its sleek design screaming wealth and sophistication. Every channel oozed with extravagance—fine dining, exotic travel destinations, luxury yachts. It was like a continuous slap in the face, reminding me of just how out of place I was in this opulent prison.
My stomach protested loudly, reminding me of its empty, neglected state. I grimaced, silently willing food to arrive before my gut ate itself from the inside out.
“Come on,” I muttered to myself. “How long does it take to whip up some grub in a palace like this?”
Just when I thought I might have to resort to gnawing on the designer furniture out of sheer desperation, a knock sounded at the door. I leaped up, nearly tripping over the stupidly long pant legs in my haste to answer it. Swinging the door open, I found an attendant standing there, a serving cart laden with silver-domed dishes before him.
“Your meal, sir,” he announced with a practiced smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Thanks,” I grunted, dragging the serving cart inside before he could offer any more polite platitudes.
The moment the door clicked shut, I tore off the silver domes. My eyes widened as I took in the spread—steak so tender it practically melted under my fork, lobster tails dripping with garlic butter, a medley of vegetables that looked like they’d been plucked straight from some fairy-tale garden, duck confit witha crispy skin and rich port wine reduction, and some sort of insanely gooey, molten chocolate creation for dessert.
I didn’t waste any time diving in, shoveling bite after bite into my ravenous maw, unable to remember the last time I’d eaten something so utterly divine. The first bite of steak sent me into culinary heaven—juicy, perfectly seasoned. Next came the lobster; it was pure decadence, each mouthful a burst of flavor that made me almost forget my predicament.
I was halfway through a particularly succulent piece of steak when the bathroom door swung open. Out sauntered Matt in nothing but silk pajama pants clinging to his hips and a towel draped over his shoulders to catch the beads of water dripping from his damp hair.
Nearly choking on my food, I had to gulp down some water to clear my throat. My eyes betrayed me by tracing every sinewy muscle of his torso—water droplets glistened on his skin like tiny diamonds under the soft light.
Matt looked like he’d been carved from granite by the gods themselves. His powerful chest and rippling abs seemed to mock the very laws of physics with their sheer, sculpted perfection.
But it was the breathtaking tattoo adorning his upper body that truly captivated me. A magnificent dragon coiled its way across his skin, its intricate scales shimmering as if alive. The creature’s serpentine form started at his shoulder, winding around his bicep and across his back. Delicate cherry blossom petals intertwined with the dragon’s body, a striking contrast of power and beauty. The dragon’s emerald eyes seemed to bore into me with a fierce intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I found myself utterly transfixed, my plate of food forgotten as I drank in the sight before me.
Matt caught my stare and raised an eyebrow. “Like what you see?”
Heat blazed through me, a treacherous flush creeping up my neck. I quickly averted my gaze, cursing the reaction. Damn my overactive hormones for finding this arrogant bastard so undeniably, unfairly attractive.
I forced myself to focus on the duck confit.
“Enjoying the food, I see,” he rumbled, his voice a deep purr that did nothing to cool my rising temperature.
Seizing on the chance to regain my composure, I shot back a cheeky grin. “Best meal I’ve had in ages. Who knew billionaires had such good taste?”
A rich laugh rolled off him in response. “I’m glad you approve.” He prowled closer, eyes glinting with wicked promise. “Now be a good boy and clean up after yourself. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom for when you’re done.”
I held his heated gaze for a beat, then gave a flippant little salute. “You got it, boss.”
With that, Matt turned and made his way to the bedroom, leaving me to finish my meal—and attempt to ignore the way my pulse raced at the thought of using his toothbrush… his bathroom…
I watched as he climbed into bed, turning off all but one light—the one over where I sat eating. He stretched out like some predatory cat, and I had to shake my head to clear it.
Once every crumb was gone, I gathered the dishes and loaded them back onto the serving cart to be collected later. After brushing my teeth—and steadfastly avoiding thoughts of how Matt’s mouth might have tasted—I padded back out to the living area, exhaustion weighing heavily on me.
From the bedroom, I could hear the even cadence of Matt’s breathing—already out cold. I considered climbing into that massive bed beside him, just to see the look on his stupidly handsome face, but the couch would be safer—and far less tempting. With a resigned sigh, I settled in among the plushcushions, letting the gentle sound of Matt’s sleep lull me into my own well-deserved slumber.
