Saint shakes his head. “Non, cherie. These are all restocked brand new after each occupant. The entire room is cleaned down from top to bottom. The bedding changed. The mattress, which is protected anyway, steamed. The chocolates, condoms, sex toys, champagne, etcetera, is all restocked.”
“Should think so, for five grand,” she mutters.
Saint turns to her, scowling. “We got this for you,” he says, sounding pissed. “I thought you’d like it.”
She puts her hands on her hips and stares Saint down. “You booked us this amazing house, flew me first class to Paris, and for what? To keep me in this bedroom for five days so you can have your kinky way with me? It’s always about the sex with you, Saint.”
She storms out of the room and into the elevator, calling over her shoulder. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Well, what the fuck?
Giving Saint my full attention, I frown. “I wasn’t expecting that response.”
Zane signs.You did all this for her but then made her feel it was just about sex.
“Of course it’s not just about sex, but the sex will be fun,” Saint insists. “And she likes it just as much as we do. What the hell is her issue?”
“I think what Zane means, is we did all this, then made it seem like it came with strings attached.”
I can literally see the cogs turning in Saint’s brain. Sometimes my twin is very lacking in empathy, but for Vani, he tries so hard to see things from her point of view, which is what tells me that in his own disturbed way he loves her deeply.
“Ah, I think I get it. I’ll talk to her.”
He scratches his cheek and turns away sheepishly.
“Maybe give her some alone time before you do. She’s likely to bite your head off right now.”
He ignores me and presses the button for the elevator.
CHAPTER 6
Vani
Water pounds down on me,soothing my aching muscles, which are tight from the long flight.
I don’t know why I reacted so badly to Saint’s last surprise. Well, I do. Out of all the guys, Saint is the one who can still push my buttons the most, and most of the time the buttons he pushes make me have the best orgasms ever. But sometimes, he treats me like his sex doll, and yes, I find it hot, if I’m being honest, but I also wonder if he truly loves me. The way I’m sure Zane and Lex do.
I know he does, deep down. He is the one out of the three who can’t bear to be away from me. He’d sneak into my room before we were properly together, for God’s sake, to watch me sleep, which is fucked up and toxic, but still, it’s love. His version, anyway.
I suppose it is just that the gift they’d given me seemed so romantic and so special that for once I felt like a princess, not a biker chick. For a brief moment, I was the girl in the Christmas movies.
Then Saint showed me his extra sex-room, and it made me feel like I’d never be that princess. I’d always be their depraved biker chick. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I love being her.Some days, though, just every now and again, a girl wants to feel truly special.
As I calm down and my temper fades, guilt snaps at my heels. They did all this for me. Rented an amazing home, booked extortionate first-class tickets, and I got upset because there’s a secret sex room?
It’s not as if we even have to use it. None of them would ever force me into something I didn’t want. And when I think back to it, the bed, the wall to ceiling bookshelves filled with high-class, coffee-table porn, and the bowls of chocolates, roses, and condoms were very sexy. In a classy way, too. Yeah, the idea of playing on that bed doesn’t exactly fill me with dread.
Shit, I ought to go and find Saint when I’m clean and dry, so I can apologize.
The bathroom door bursts open, and Saint stalks in. Crap, he’s probably livid, and I’m not in the mood for an argument with him. I open my mouth, about to say I’m sorry, but he drops to his knees, shocking me.
I stare at him as he looks up at me through the water-soaked glass, his face seeming as if it’s melting slightly with the optical illusion created by the water.
“Forgive me,cherie. I didn’t mean to make you feel like a… as if you’re a…” Standing abruptly, he runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck. You’re not just a thing for sex to me.”
I bark out a laugh. “I hope not, Saint.”
“Of course you are not.” He shakes his head.“Merde.I fucked this up.”
