Through the steam, I could just make out Raoul’s silhouette. Raoul, who wasnotlying on the sofa underneath a blanket beside my companion. He had such yummy broad shoulders, and I’d be a fool not to gape at the strong lines of his body, the movement of his arm, the rhythm of it?—
Hold on.Rhythmof his arm movement?
Water splashed.
I spun around so fast I nearly tripped, my hand slapping over my mouth to muffle my gasp.
He was touching himself. Thinking about me.
I needed to leave. Immediately. Quietly. Pretend I’d never opened this door, never heard my name escape his lips in that tone that made my knees go weak.
“Fuck,” he growled, and the word sent a shock of pure want straight through me.
Opening the door as quietly as I could, I slipped through it and practically threw myself across the sitting room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind me.
I pressed my hands to my burning cheeks and leaned against the door. My entire body felt overheated, my skin too sensitive, my mind replaying that rough groan over and over.
He’d been thinking about me. About our kisses. About?—
I couldn’t finish that thought or I’d end up creating a blizzard.
I forced myself to move, to focus on something other than the image of Raoul’s silhouette through the steam. I needed to dress. Prepare for the day. Find a way to act like a normal person who hadn’t just heard her husband pleasuring himself while saying her name.
Professional partnership, I reminded myself firmly. We’d agreed. We’d kissed, yes, and ithad been incredible, but we were both practical people who understood the difference between physical attraction and actual emotional connection.
The fact that my hands shook while fastening my dress had nothing to do with anything.
I chose a deep blue gown, one that fit properly and didn’t threaten to spill my breasts out at inappropriate moments. The neckline was modest, the skirt comfortable, and I looked absolutely normal in it and not at all like someone who’d just accidentally spied on her husband.
I took my time with my hair, braiding it carefully and pinning it up. Then I took more time going through my research notes that didn’t need to be reviewed.
Finally, I rearranged the books on the bedside table by size.
Where are you?Fletcher asked.Raoul ordered breakfast, and there’s a huge pile of eggs. I want at least three, and some of that dark-grain bread slathered with butter.His whine rang out in my mind.Where are you? He’s going to wonder if you’ve died in there.
I’m just…getting ready.
You’ve been moving around a long time. At least forty-five minutes.
Had it really been that long?
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and opened the bedroom door.
Raoul stood by the table near the windows, fully dressed in a charcoal tunic with gold threading at the collar. His damp hair had been tied back, and he looked completely at ease as he arranged breakfast on plates.
“Good morning,” he said, turning to smile at me. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost in there.”
“Just taking my time.” My voice came out mostly normal, which felt like a victory.
His smile widened. “I ordered extra food for Fletcher.”
Raoul pulled out a chair for me, and I sat, hyperaware of how close he stood, how I could smell his soap—the same one I’d used yesterday. Which meant we’d both been naked in the bathing pool, and now I was thinking about him naked again and?—
“Are you all right?” Raoul asked, settling into the chair across from me. “You’re flushed.”
“Fine. I’m excited about visiting the archives.” Not a lie. Iwasexcited. Among other things.
“We’ll head down after breakfast.” He passed me a plate with eggs and bread, lowering a third onto the floor for Fletcher, who groaned and strode over to gobble it up. “I’ve cleared my schedule for the day so we won’t be rushed.”
