“I think I’m going to go to our room and take a bath. My head hurts from the champagne, and my feet are killing me from wearing heels all night.”
Those emerald green eyes catch mine, his fingers curling into his palm, but he smiles and says nothing as the driver opens my door and offers me a hand to help me from the car.
We walk up the steps to the front door, and I wait as Grant unlocks it then holds it open for me.
“Go get your bath. I’ll bring you something to help with the headache.”
Another pang of guilt flashes inside me. It’s not often Grant offers to do anything for me, and to hear him do so now only rips open the wound I have on my soul for breaking my vows to him.
“Thanks,” I whisper before running down the hall to start the bath and step out of the gown I’ve worn all evening. As soon as I pull it off, I realize I’m completely naked, my panties in the pocket of a man I can’t get out of my head.
It only makes me feel worse, the ache between my legs reminding me of what I’ve done.
Trying not to think about it, I move back into the bathroom and pour salts into the water, let them dissolve and then step into a bath that smells like roses and lavender, the hot water soothing all the aches and pains.
Silence descends, the only sound breaking through is that of the water moving slowly around me as I shift my position to lay my head back against the lip of the tub, my body stretched out and soaking.
My eyes close, and I fight exhaustion. Mental and physical, my pulse pounding hard each time I think about what I’ve done.
Grant clears his throat as he comes into the bathroom, and my eyes snap open to look at him.
Still dressed in the white shirt and black pants of his tux, he holds a glass of water and some pills in his hands, his bowtie undone and hanging down from his collar.
He takes a seat on the wide lip of the tub next to me, handing me the glass and pills. I take them and smile.
“Thank you.”
A nod of his head as he twists in place to set the glass on a counter after I hand it back.
“How do you think it went tonight?” he asks, his voice calm, inquisitive.
Water sluices as I slide my arm beneath it, the surface coming up to my chin. Steam rises, carrying with it the soothing scent of flowers. My face beads with perspiration from the heat of the water, my muscles relaxing.
“I think it went well. Everybody appeared to have a good time.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, his voice so silent that I open my eyes to glance up at him.
His green eyes are running a lazy path down my body, the water doing nothing to hide me.
“Harrison still hasn’t agreed to invest. It feels like he’s jerking my chain. His lack of commitment is pissing me off.”
I don’t like Grant’s tone of voice, rage simmering just at the edges of what he says.
Seconds pass, my mind falling deeper into relaxation, my body heavy from the heat of the water.
The last person I want to talk about is Ari.
“You’ll get him. You always do.”
His fingers begin brushing through my hair, a gentle motion that has my eyes closing again. I’m so tired suddenly, and I blame the weeks of activity between planning the event and preparing for the gallery show.
“Maybe it will take more than I usually offer to secure the deal.” A pause, the weight of it disturbing me. “Like my wife, for instance.”
My eyes crack open again. Not all the way. The lids feel too heavy, like struggling against sleep.
“That’s not funny,” I answer, my words running together. Swallowing, I attempt to shake my head of the hazy feeling that’s overtaking me despite the terror I feel at what he said.
His fingers continue playing in my hair, digging deeper, the tips softly massaging my scalp.
He stares down at me, not an ounce of humor in his expression.
“Harrison has a thing for you, I’ve noticed. It seems like he is bored out of his mind when talking to me, but the second you walk into the room...”
Leaving the thought unfinished, Grant runs another lingering look down my body before returning to my face.