Page 85 of The Rented Bride

Chapter Sixteen

The phone on the nightstand rang.

“Thank you.” Trent’s sleepy voice wormed into Cassie’s dream. And then he was there, aligning his body with hers and placing sweet kisses along her neck and shoulder.

She hummed and stretched. A delicious ache tingled between her legs as the previous night came rushing back in a flood of erotic memories.

“Good morning.” She rolled over to face him.

“Seven a.m.” His morning voice was as sexy as the stubble that shadowed his jaw.

“Mmm. Good.”

“What time do you have to be downstairs?” he asked.

“In about an hour.” She draped her arm over her eyes. Today, she really would love to stay in bed, but the brunch started at ten and she still had a job to do.

“Take your shower. I’ll order room service,” he said.

“Just—”

“Just coffee,” he said at the same time. “I know, but you should at least eat toast. After all, you did work late last night.”

She sat up and slid her legs over the edge of the bed, but kept the sheet tucked around her breasts. “Caffeine and stress,” she murmured. “Perfect combination.”

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder. Why was she nervous? He saw her naked last night. They’d had sex. God, they’d had incredible sex. Still, prancing around nude in front of a man wasn’t part of her usual morning ritual. Not seeing an alternative, she dropped the sheet.

“I’ll just be a minute.” She scurried to the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, she closed the door and leaned against it. Her heart raced but her breasts tingled and warmth settled between her legs. She glanced in the mirror and groaned. Mascara smeared beneath her eyes and her hair was a nest of snarls. Turning on the shower, she stuck a hand beneath the water, waited until it warmed, then stepped beneath the sprays.

Twenty minutes later, feeling clean and refreshed, Cassie wrapped a towel around her torso and exited the bathroom. Fresh coffee waited on the table. Trent had his back to her. While she’d showered, he’d slipped on his boxers. She discerned the tension in his shoulders and noticed the bend of his arm—the phone pressed to his ear. What was wrong? He spoke in tones too low to hear.

“That bitch!” he growled.

That she heard. Cassie quickly and quietly grabbed a pair of slacks and a silk cami.

“No, of course I didn’t,” he snapped. “How the fuck am I supposed to fix this?”

Cassie’s cell phone pealed out a loud ring tone. Trent spun. His mouth held a tight line and red crept up his neck. Their gazes locked. Was he angry with her?

The cell phone rang again.

Cassie clutched the clothes to her chest, grabbed her cell, and retreated to the bathroom.

“Hello,” she said, and dumped her clothes onto the bathroom counter.

“Oh my god, Cassie. What is going on?” Maryanne blurted. “My phone started ringing fifteen minutes ago.”

“Why?” She pulled on panties and her slacks.

Maryanne chuckled, but it sounded like incredulity. “Oh come now. Think really hard, Cassie.”

Fear twisted through her. Since meeting Trent, she had told too many lies and accumulated too many secrets to even guess what Maryanne could be referencing.

“I knew you were full of shit when you said there was nothing going on between you and Trent,” Maryanne said. “Now the world knows.”

Cassie released a slow exhale. “I don’t think kissing on the dance floor is that big of a deal.” She pinched the phone between her shoulder and ear then slipped her arms into her bra and snapped the front closure.