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He regards me with consoling patience, eyes thoroughly assessing, and then he nods his head and opens the door wider. “Okay, Harper, that’s fine. Just leave the bucket next to the truck and we can deal with it later.”
I know that he’s lying but I do it anyway, placing it carefully just outside of the vehicle before stepping out on wobbly legs. The autumn pinch in the air makes me wrap my arms over my chest. A second later I feel a warm unzipped jumper drape snugly over my shoulders, and then Mitch is directing me up the porch steps as he slips his keys from his pocket.
Once he’s got the door open and me inside he’s on an immediate mission for warmth and light, turning on heaters and lamps when I’m barely past the threshold. Whilst he’s got his back to me I nuzzle my nose into the collar of his jumper and the scent of his skin obliterates the last iota of common sense from my mind.
I follow him into the kitchen which is set to the right of the entryway and he immediately fills up a glass with water, handing it to me and watching me drink the whole thing. I pull an expression of distaste when I finally finish it and he makes an apologetic face in return.
“We have to flush it out, Harper, I’m sorry,” he says as he turns slightly so that he can fill up the kettle. When he sets it to boil he gestures that we should leave the room and I tag behind him like a stray. “I would give you a tour but now probably isn’t the best time,” he murmurs, something like regret lacing his tone.
I shake my head and try not to vomit in my mouth. “Just show me where you keep the shovels and I’ll let the earth reclaim my body.”
He gives me a withering look and then jerks his chin at the stairwell. I cling to the banister and drag myself upwards. “That’s not funny,” he grumbles. “I don’t want you saying things like that. I want you to get hydrated, rested, and then–”
“And then you want me to get the hell out of here, I know, I know.”
At the top of the stairs he stops next to me, looking down into my eyes with a harsh crease on his brow. “I wasn’t going to say that at all, Harper. I…” He shakes his head, runs his hand down his jaw. “I wouldn’t have offered you to stay here if I didn’twantyou here.”
“Because I’m the boss’s daughter.” I say it like a fact, eyes sharp on his own.
He narrows his gaze in return and reaches behind me to hold onto the ball at the top of the banister. The combination of his warm skin and the traces of his cologne make my eyes slow-blink and my knees wobble. He gives me a hard lookbefore he leans in a little closer and tells me, “That’s one of the reasons why youshouldn’tbe here.”
Then suddenly we’re walking again but my mind is still levitating at the top of the staircase.
“What do you mean?” I ask petulantly. “What are the other reasons?”
He pulls open the door to one of the rooms and my heart jolts in my chest.
This is a man’s bedroom. This is not a room that is shared with a woman – there are no touches of prettiness or femininity. It’s dark and seductive, all brown and navy. My eyes are unable to move away from the king sized bed pressed up against the wall, covered in a plumped up quilt and a haphazardly discarded navy comforter.
“Why are we in here?” The words come out of me in a hoarse whisper.
“I thought…” He clears his throat and then tries again. “I thought that you could sleep in here. I wouldn’t have you on the couch, and the room upstairs isn’t technically…” He trails off, not finishing the thought, leaving me unsure.
“I should sleep on the couch.” I say it firmly, so that maybe one of us will believe it. Then I’m pressing the back of my hand against my mouth and keeling over on the threshold.
Five seconds later Mitch is back with another bucket, ushering me over to the bed with the basin held out in front of me. He risks a glance at the centimetre gap between my knees and his bed and rasps out, “I can change the sheets first.”
He could but I don’t want him to, so I give in to the need to slide my knees onto the mattress, kneading the softness with my hands and splaying my thighs out slightly. I hear his breathing catch behind me so I turn around to look at him, settling in on my butt. Then I fall face-first on his mattress and his quilt bulges up around me.
When I see that he’s still watching me, a restrained expression on his face, I say, voice gravelly, “It’s almost exactly what I expected.”
His cheek ticks up for a split second. My heart racketeers in my chest.
“Almost?” he asks, clicking on a bedside lamp and illuminating the room in a campfire glow.
“I was backing a mirror on the ceiling,” I whisper.
He laughs, loud and bright, and for the briefest moment I see a flash of his full undisguised smile. Those perfect white teeth against his deep bronze tan, twin creases in his cheeks and an amused sparkle in his eyes.
“Okay,” he laughs, turning his face slightly so that I can’t get the full whack of the smile he’s trying to tamper down. “I’m gonna bring you water and an electrolyte tablet, and then I’ll leave you until you need me. The bathroom is next door” – he gestures at the wall facing the bed – “and I’ll be up as soon as you need anything. Just shout for me, or knock on the wall or something.”
“Are you a light sleeper?” I ask quietly, turning on my side and cuddling his quilt up between my thighs and against my chest.
His eyes linger there momentarily, and his face loses the light-heartedness that was colouring his features only a second ago. Then he says, “I’m not going to sleep yet. It’s only seven, Harper.”
Time is not a concept to me in Mitch’s sexy bedroom. All that I see is navy softness surrounded by deep brown furniture, all of which I’m pretty sure he made with his own two hands. Every available surface is hard polished wood and the only light amidst the darkness are his sharp diamond eyes.
I’m sweating and shivering on his beautiful cotton quilt and the only concern on his face is that I get well soon. He doesn’t care that I literally vomited for half of the car journey and he’s gotten over the fact that when I first met him I was a pain in the ass. For a second I consider telling him everything – why I came to Pine Hills and how infatuated I have become with him – but then I’m hit with a deep cramp and he’s out of the room, storming down the stairs so that he can grab me a glass of water as quickly as possible.
