By the time the charcuterie board had nothing but a couple of sad circles of soppressata left, she felt herself shivering in her robe, and her teeth only slightly chattering. The contracts would be delivered to them both tomorrow morning.
“I’ll clean up,” Santi volunteered. “You should go take a shower. Put your clothes together so I can throw them in the dryer, too.”
“Fine. Only because you—” Kira stopped and sneezed, and a muscle in her chest seemed to protest. “Ow. Can I borrow your clothes?”
“Of course,” Santi said, giving her a quick kiss on the temple and ushering her out of his kitchen before she headed to his bathroom, which was currently her favorite room in his house. It was a narrow space, with gray stone tile that led all the way to a glass shower the size of a small closet in the back, a wall separating it from one of those fancy Japanese toilets that made a rain sound to encourage you to pee. There was a bathtub on the left, his and hers sinks on the right. It had a freaking skylight, for crying out loud, and because the rains had cleared, created a little square of sunlight exactly where Kira was standing.
Kira made a little humming noise, because this was what cats must feel like when they napped in the sun. She stretched her arms over her head and turned on the bath taps, letting warm water fill the tub. She had tossed the robe aside and examined Santi’s bath options (the man had sampaguita bath bombs, also stamped with the Villa logo).
She sighed in contentment as she soaked in the sampaguita-scented bath, laughing when she realized that Santi had co-opted a lot of his own stuff from Villa.
“Can I come in?” he asked from behind the door, and she wasn’t modest enough to say no. So, Kira had a very nice view of Anton Santillan leaning against the doorway of his bathroom, his sleeves rolled up the way she liked and his arms crossed as he stared at her. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” she said. “You steal from Hotel Villa. Tiyani.”
“I—” Kira laughed when she saw Santi’s flustered face. “The robe is a prototype. As are the towels.”
“And the bath bombs?”
“Samples. Those might actually be expired.”
“They smell fine from here.” Kira settled deeper into the sage-colored water, made possible by the magic of the bath bomb. She lifted a foot above the water and pointed her toe at the soap-and-shampoo set hanging on a ledge at the end of the tub. “And those?”
“Extras.” Santi’s ears were red now, but he did push himself up off of the doorframe and sauntered toward her, his eyes dark and full of intent. Kira shuddered, and the bathwater was particularly warm. “I wouldn’t put these things in my hotels if I didn’t enjoy them, you know.”
“I guessed.” Kira smiled, leaning forward as Santi sat on the floor next to her. He must have seen the hesitation on her face because he smiled softly at her.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“No you’re not,” Kira insisted. How could he be? It wasn’t nice, or kind, what had happened in the lobby of his own hotel. He didn’t deserve that. And neither did she. “You don’t have to be. Your grandfather barely spoke to me, and I’m not fine.”
“I don’t have to wallow in my sadness either,” he pointed out. How very Earth sign of him. “And I am sorry about them. Lolo and my father. I was trying not to expose you to that side of my life.”
“It’s a part of you, Santi,” she insisted, sighing as he swirled his fingers in the water, as if making sure it was still warm. “It’s always going to be a part of you.”
“I know.” His voice was small suddenly, as he looked at his lap. If Kira wasn’t sitting in the bathtub, she would have hugged him. But he sighed and looked up at her, his face softening as he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But it’s a part of me I’d rather not show.”
“Santi...”
“So. We’re officially going to be business partners tomorrow,” he said, not really wanting to talk about this. “Are you ready to meet my exacting standards?”
“Ha!” Kira chortled, but leaned her head on his hand. “You’re going to love my chocolate as much as I love this tub.”
“Gemini Chocolates and bathtubs. A winning marketing strategy,” Santi said, and look at her man, making jokes.
“Better than matchmaking?” Kira joked, her brow rising. Santi pulled his hand back, as if embarrassed, and rightfully so.
“I was wrong to have said that,” he admitted sheepishly. “The matchmaking is part of your strategy, but...it’s also not really the matching, it’s the making people feel welcome into your space. It’s knowing that you’re there for them. They know you, so they’ll buy it from you.” Santi smiled, and god, it was always so nice when he smiled at her. It was like the world was definitely going to be better. “And if it wasn’t for your matchmaking, we never would have seen each other at that hotel in Manila.”
“If it wasn’t for my matchmaking, I wouldn’t have been in La Spezia to talk to you when you came back to Lipa.”
Santi moved to sit at the edge of the tub beside her, swirling his fingers in the waters, his eyes trailing across her collar, down to her breasts and the rest of her body that was barely hidden under the surface. Anyone who saw them would think that she took baths in front of him all the time.
“Full disclosure,” he said. “When you gave me your chocolate at the wedding, I gave Chloe Agila my giveaway bar.”
“What!” Kira gasped. “You gave...you gave the queen of Philippine chocolatesmychocolate? Why? How do you evenknowChloe Agila?”
“Oh, she was mine and Lily Capras’s classmate in AGS. I needed a second opinion on the chocolate, because I couldn’t be objective, knowing you made it. I didn’t know if I was just clouded by my feelings.”
