Another guest room.
The last door on the end had to be his. I opened the door and flicked on the light. “Wow.”
Deep charcoal walls gave the oversized bedroom a warm, rich feeling. The far wall boasted the same floor-to-ceiling sparkling skyline view as the living room and office, except this view had a set of double doors that led to an outdoor terrace with seating. I imagined Jagger sitting out there at night, a glass filled with the amber liquid he’d been drinking earlier. The windows were dressed in opulent deep burgundy linens, tied back by tasseled ropes. To the right, a sleek fireplace had been built into the wall. But the centerpiece of the room was a king-size, four-poster bed, with ornately carved dark wood, a velvet duvet that matched the walls but had thick burgundy piping, and a pile of textured throw pillows with a pop of color. I couldn’t stop myself—I ran my hand over the soft bedding and salivated.He probably sleeps here naked. I got the crazy urge to rip off my clothes and roll around in the sheets.
That thought rattled around in my head for longer than it should’ve, and I smiled, imagining him climbing into bed after I was gone and smelling my perfume on his pillow. I needed my head examined because I took a moment to consider whether I had the small, roller-ball cylinder of perfume I sometimes carried in my purse with me. Though I stopped myself from actually going to find out and instead walked to the door on the other side of the room. I figured it was a bathroom or closet, and it turned out to be both—an amazing bathroom, with a shower big enough for a party and a separate tub across from doublevanity sinks, and a door that led into an oversized closet with dark wood built-ins. A center island showcased perfectly folded ties and sunglasses under glass, and both sides of the closet were lined with rows and rows of clothes. Suits and shirts on one side, and casual stuff on the other. I’d thought I was organized until seeing this place.
I fingered through the suits, noting he had not one, but at least three tuxedos, and he favored Tom Ford and Brunello Cucinelli suits. It was all very nice, but also very expected, and didn’t tell me much I didn’t already know about the man. I was just about to turn around and take a run at the bedside nightstand—maybe that’s where he kept his secrets—when I spotted an old black trunk tucked in the corner. I stilled, listening for any sounds to indicate Jagger had returned before dropping to my knees and creaking open the top.
Oh boy.My eyes flared wide.Welp, I guess I found it—his treasure trove of sex paraphernalia, that is. Though I would’ve expected more along the lines of floggers and silk blindfolds, not hot pink boas and tiaras. What the hell was he into? Playing princess-and-bodyguard or something?
“I knew you were young, but you’re not that young.”
I jumped, startled by the unexpected deep voice, and sprawled flat on my ass. My hand covered my pounding heart as I looked up and found Jagger looking pleased with himself.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I said, incredulous. “You were only gone five minutes.”
“The restaurant is right next door. I would’ve been faster, but they warmed the food up.”
“I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“I didn’t realize I had to knock.”
He held a hand out to me, and I took it. The second he closed his fingers around mine, my pulse took off like a runaway train. I’d had that reaction to him before, but this time I could tell by his face and the way he stared down at our connection that he felt it too. Jagger quickly took his hand back once I got to my feet.
I felt certain my face was turning red, and I wasn’t sure if it was from what his touch did to me or getting caught going through his private things. I brushed invisible dirt from my ass, looking anywhere but at him. “I…I…you told me I could snoop.”
“I thought you’d be interested in my things rather than my nieces’.”
“Your…” I looked at the still-open trunk—the tiara, the boas, the pink fabric I hadn’t yet had a chance to pull out from underneath. “Nieces’?”
Jagger’s eyes narrowed. “Did you think I wore pink princess costumes?”
“I…thought maybe that was your kink.”
He looked at me for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter. It was such genuine amusement, I started smiling just watching him.
“You thought I liked women to dress up in tiaras and tutus?”
“What was I supposed to think? Your apartment is otherwise insanely organized, and I didn’t find anything nefarious at all.”
“Nefarious?”
I nodded.
Jagger thumbed over his shoulder. “I guess you didn’t check the nightstand then?”
My eyes widened. “What’s in the nightstand?”
He chuckled and put his hand on my back. “Come on, Columbo. The food is getting cold.”
I let him lead me out of the closet, through the bathroom, and almost out the bedroom door. But when I saw the nightstand, I slowed. “What’s in there?”
He tugged me the rest of the way into the hall. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
A takeout bag sat on the kitchen counter. Jagger took out two plates, utensils, and glasses. “Are you vegan or anything?”
“Nope. I like meat.”
