Page 63 of Tell Me Something

He sighed. “Yes, and I’m trying to be a good friend to her post-divorce. But she’s panicked about being thirty-three-years old and now unmarried without kids.”

“Did you know her ex-husband?”

His hands felt amazing as they made their way to my legs. “Yes, I knew him, not that we were friends. He’s an executive with Morgan Stanley.”

“What happened?”

“Her story to tell.”

I should’ve expected that from him. “I just meant that she’s beautiful, successful, fun, and—well, she’s nice. It doesn’t add up unless he was a complete asshole. Actually, it doesn’t make sense why you’re not interested in her.”

“I would think it would be obvious. Marriage, kids—Plus, as much as I like Catherine, I’ve only ever thought of her as a friend.”

“Looking at the two of you, it would be easy to imagine you together. You look like you’d fit as a couple.”

His arms went around me. “I felt the same way when I saw you laughing tonight at the pub with that twenty-something-year-old English bartender. Same thing on your night out with Zach. But I’d like to think the perception of what fits and the reality can be very different.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask anything, but whether or not I’ll answer depends on the question.”

In other words, his marriage was off-limits. “Are we exclusive?”

He tensed. I assumed it was because I was pushing the boundaries of what he was willing to offer. This relationship might be temporary, but the thought of him with another woman didn’t sit well at all.

“I haven’t been with anyone else, if that’s what you’re asking. I guess I had assumed we were exclusive,” he confided.

I sighed in relief. “I like that assumption.”

He shifted and started to rise out of the water. “Water is getting cold. Come here. Let’s get you dried off.” He helped me out of the tub and wrapped me up in a warm towel.

“I’m a fan of the toasty towel. Might be worth the fire risk.”

He took one for himself and smiled. “I think you’re right about that. Did you, um, need some time in the bathroom before bed?”

My face heated. “Uh, yeah. I’ll go back to my room and then get dressed.”

“You’re cute when you blush.”

My face flushed even further. “Good night.” I smiled, giving him a kiss.

“You’re sleeping with me tonight, aren’t you?”

Okay, this threw me. “Um, you want me to?”

He kissed my forehead. “Get dressed in your pajamas and come back to my bed. I’ll massage your back.”

Damn if he wasn’t the best boyfriend ever, I thought, after crawling into the bed a short time later. He massaged my lower back precisely where it was always sore this time of month.

CHAPTER TWELVE

T he next day involved a lot of shuffling of meetings with an unforeseen crisis concerning the purchase of the Hong Kong business. Something about the government and taxes, but I wasn’t brought up to speed on the details.

From the grim look on Josh’s face, it was evident he wasn’t happy. Now at ten o’clock at night, we were still in the London office, conferencing with both Brian, who was on site in Hong Kong, and a bunch of attorneys. I didn’t know how he did it, but Josh still looked impeccable in his suit after a fourteen-hour day.

Hours earlier, he’d offered me a chance to go back to the hotel, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I think he was relieved since, in my opinion, he couldn’t have handled all the logistics of the many calls. Not that he wasn’t brilliant, but men like him didn’t bother with the details of how to videoconference. Hell, they didn’t need to.

“Gentlemen, I trust this is now in good hands.” He wrapped up the call and glanced at me after finally hanging up. “Let’s go.” Annoyance from the day was evident in his tone.