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Chapter Twenty-Two
Scarlett
The morning sun streaming into the suite wakes me with its warmth. Rolling over, careful not to wake a gently snoring Cohen, I slip from the luxurious tufted king bed.
Padding through The KnightsBridge suite, I pick up his shirt from the floor, and throw it on, letting his cool ocean scent, still clinging to the fabric, engulf me.
Ordering room service, I go to the marbled toilet and freshen up, the heated floors warm my feet in the chilly morning air, away from the warmth of Cohen’s arms. My eyes fall to the massive tub and I think a soak in the Jacuzzi might be a nice way to end the evening. I’ve just climbed out of his bed and I’m already thinking about tonight.
As I move through the suite, it’s almost as if I’m dream walking. Being here with him, the night we shared, it was more than I could have expected, on every level. He says he’s not romantic but he leaves no stone unturned to pamper and pleasure me. Sinking into the soft grey sofa in the lounge, I wait for the coffee and pastries to be delivered.
The suite is exquisite, white panel walls, an ornate fireplace. It has an old world charm, with a vibrant and modern flare, very similar to my own tastes. A quiet knock alerts me, and I open the door as the house butler wheels the cart in, the smell of coffee and warm cocoa fill my nose.
“The tip.” I blurt out, realizing not only am I half dressed, but my clutch is in the bedroom.
“It’s no trouble at all, madam. Everything has been taken care of.” He dismisses himself.
My cheeks heat in embarrassment at my disheveled state, though it’s possible they’ve seen worse.
Preparing a cup, and grabbing a pain au chocolate, I head for the private balcony. Pulling my knees to my chest and snuggling to the oversize lounge chair, I look out at the city below as I take a sip of the steaming dark roast. My private little view of Old Brompton Road and the Queen’s Gate. I could get used to this.
Sitting aside the lovely embossed mug, I enjoy the delicious flavor of a warm, buttery croissant with chocolate melted inside, as I wait for my coffee to cool. I thought about ordering scones, but since I’m not having tea I felt like it might be sacrilege.
I lose track of time as my mind keeps replaying last night with Cohen. After the amazing time that we had at the London Eye and dining on fabulous fresh seafood, we came back to the room for dessert, each other. The feast lasted all night long. The bed for royalty, the circular daybed draped in fur, even the robin egg blue velvet chair. I can still feel the soft and sensual fabrics that caressed my bare skin as he worshipped my body like it was his life’s ambition.
I look over my shoulder to find a sleepy Cohen, smiling at me from the doorway.
My skin heats under his knowing stare, I’ve no doubt have eyes full of lust.
“Morning.” His voice is a bit hoarse.
“I didn’t want to disturb you, sorry, I took the liberty of ordering some breakfast.” I smile over my shoulder at him.
“Looks more like the desert that we didn’t get to finish last night.” He teases. “I haven’t slept like that in, well never. I don’t usually sleep that much.” He yawns, as he steps over the lounger I’m sitting on, scooting me up and straddling the chair behind me, pulling me close.
I know exactly what he means, because when I’m with him I feel settled.
“Nice shirt.” His fingers toy with them hem that’s riding high on my hips.
“I thought so.” I breathe out as his fingers flutter up the line of buttons, teasing me.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” He asks, some of his usual heaviness gone from his voice, as he dips his hand in an opening and runs his fingers around my navel. I love seeing the relaxed side of Cohen.
“You’re going to pretend like I haven’t figured you out? I know you’ve basically hijacked the weekend, and I’m perfectly fine with that. You don’t have to pretend to let me play tour guide, if today is anything like last night, I can’t wait to see what you have up your sleeves.” I laugh, snuggling back into his arms.
“Shall we get dressed and go find out?” He nips at my neck, and squeezes me hip, breakfast forgotten.
“Just five more minutes.” I sign, melting into him as his hand moves back to undo the rest of the buttons.
“You’re the guide after all.” He teases and captures my laughter with a kiss, turning me over to face him.
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Cohen
We step outside of the Kensington and find our ride waiting for us. A large, shiny red double-decker bus with an exposed upper deck awaits to take us around the city. Whirling around Scarlett fixes her eyes on mine in a wide stare. Looking like a doll in her fitted jeans, rolled at the ankle, grey tee shirt and white sneakers. From evening gowns, to lounge clothes, she looks incredible in anything she wears. Her long blonde hair is thrown over one shoulder in a loose braid and her face is makeup free and relaxed.
“You didn’t?” She beams at me.
