“I don’t know. I guess I thought you still might want to refuse.”
“I still might. The night is young.” He pulled into the underground parking of a sleek high-rise building. “We’re here.”
“Fancy.”
He came around to open my door. “Come on, you.”
As I tried to stand, the full effect of all the champagne hit me at once. The garage spun, and I stumbled. Hudson caught me, his arms strong and steady around my waist.
“Whoa,” I breathed, my cheek pressed against his chest. “That was almost bad.”
“Almost,” he murmured, but made no move to push me away.
I glanced up at him. Damn, his eyes were pretty. Better yet, they were intent on my face. The solid warmth of him, the smell of his cologne, the strength beneath his suit. It was almost too much, and my ovaries were a little too excited about it.
“I can walk,” I insisted, though I made no attempt to prove the statement.
“Sure you can.” His tone was indulgent as he kept one arm firmly around my waist. “But I like playing the gentleman every once in a while.”
“Not in the bedroom you don’t.”
“Watch it, Landry.”
“Uh huh.”
We made our way to the elevator, me leaning perhaps more than necessary against his side. The elevator was mirrored, giving me a perfect view of us from all angles. My hair had come partially undone from its updo, blonde waves cascading over one shoulder. My dress had ridden up, showing more leg than I’d intended. Hudson looked as perfect as ever, though he had loosened his tie, and there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there earlier.
“We look good together,” I blurted out.
His eyes met mine in the mirror. “What?”
“Nothing. Ignore me. I’m drunk.”
“So you finally admit it.”
“I admitted it earlier too, but you weren’t listening to me.” I turned away from our reflection. “I was just stating an objective fact. We’re both attractive people. We look aesthetically pleasing standing next to each other. That’s all.”
“Aesthetically pleasing,” he repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Yes. Like a good table setting. Or a well-designed logo. Visually pretty.”
“Okay.”
The elevator doors opened onto a hallway that was exactly what I would have expected from Hudson’s building; tasteful, expensive, and understated. He guided me to a door at the end of the hall, keeping one hand on my waist as he unlocked it.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, pushing the door open.
I stepped inside and stopped short. “Wow.”
The apartment was stunning. An open concept with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a spectacular view of the city. The furniture was modern but comfortable-looking, in shades of white and black with occasional pops of deep green. Everythingwas immaculate, of course, but it wasn’t the sterile showroom I’d expected. It actually looked... lived in.
“This is nice,” I admitted, moving further inside. “Though not as obsessively organized as I imagined.”
“Well, I didn’t know I’d have company, so I didn’t have a chance to clean up.”
I turned to find him with a surprised expression. “You’re telling me this is messy?”
“For me it is.”
