Page 13 of Sasha’s Secret

For one person, the rooms she called home were ridiculously extravagant, and that included the bathroom. The white suite was set off by the geometric style of the ivory, taupe, and gold color scheme, which included gold-toned fittings, and as the steaming water filled the huge tub, Sasha finally stripped out of the clothes that were starting to feel as if they were glued to her body. She swirled her hand in the water and inhaled deeply, the scent alone enough for her to start relaxing.

Until, from the sitting room, she heard the shrill call of her cell announcing the arrival of a text message.

Please, not again. Not tonight.

She’d thought Linzi was at last showing signs of maturing over the last few weeks. Her off-duty calls and texts had tailed off considerably, and those she had made had been for valid reasons. Was this her way of getting back at Sasha for their earlier altercation? As a precaution, Sasha switched off the faucet. She didn’t need to come back to a flooded bathroom as well.

The text, however, was not from Linzi, but from Rocco. Sasha’s brow furrowed. What on earth could he want at this time of night? Unless…

I take it I have you to thank for organising dinner?

Her mood eased, teasing her lips into a slow smile at the Brit spelling. So he had worked it out. She quickly texted her reply.

No need to thank me. Figured you might not be in the mood to cook tonight, so I talked to Chef. Hope you like your steak rare. There are only two acceptable ways to serve a steak in his eyes—rare or still mooing.

Thanks. Appreciate it. Rare is fine. And thanks for stocking the kitchen too.

No problem.

Sasha waited. Crazy though it was, she as convinced the exchange wasn’t done yet. Then, just when she was ready to blame tiredness and a deprived libido, her phone chirped again.

Perhaps you’d let me return your hospitality by cooking dinner for you one evening?

She blinked, and read the message again. He wanted to cook for her? The mere thought was enough to put her sex-starved imagination into overdrive, which was a ridiculous reaction, because sex with Rocco was not on the menu.

You don’t have to do that.

I know, but I’d like to. Besides, it’d be a great way of interrogating you ;-)

“Rocco, I did not have you down as a smiley kind of guy,” she murmured as she formulated her response.

Okay. We can discuss tomorrow. After your meeting with Frank?

Great. Shouldn’t take more than an hour, unless the conversation turns up something. How’s your schedule?

Sounds as if you’ll be done by the time I break for coffee. My office?

I’ll be there. Sleep well, Ms. Morgan. And thanks again.

Now the exchange was over. Sasha set her cell to one side and returned to the bathroom. While the tub continued to fill, she lit some scented candles on the ledge that surrounded it, and also on the vanity. With the lights dimmed, the atmosphere would be both relaxing and intimate. Music would make it perfect.

As she slid beneath the fragrant water, Sasha let out a long, heartfelt sigh. She needed this so much. If there was one thing she could thank the job that had taken her to France for, it was introducing her to the sheer luxury of investing in quality bathing products. Paris had been another difficult assignment, but for this, it had been worth it.

Then again, working for her former employer was never meant to be easy. One day, she would finally be able to let the memories go. Today was not going to be that day.

Sasha closed her eyes. Unable to lie completely still, her restlessness disturbed the water enough for it to add a delicious caress to her skin. Her imagination taunted her remorselessly by turning the silken sensation into a lover’s hands, then dialed it up another level by bestowing the kiss of a golden tan on her anonymous admirer’s skin.

Except her admirer wasn’t truly anonymous. His accent was English, yet his dark good looks spoke of a Mediterranean heritage. As her own hands explored her body, so did his in her mind. Her touch became his as he cupped her breast. His thumb gave the dusky nipple a lazy flick. His head lowered, and the softness of his lips replaced his fingers. His tongue flirted with the taut bud, while his hand roamed further, to explore the dip of her waist and the flare of her hips. He stroked her mound and wove his magical spell around her. Her thighs parted, and when his finger touched her already hypersensitive clit, she couldn’t hold in the soft, anguished moan of arousal.

It had been so long. No one since Jack. More than eighteen months. Almost two years without a lover to warm her bed and help her believe she still had a heart. She should never have sat so close to him while they were waiting for Linzi in the recording studio. Without visual input to distract her, she even fancied she could still smell the subtle scent of his aftershave.

She stroked her clit again. Her hips lifted and the water washed and swirled over her, as turbulent as her inner unrest. Her work was her life, but she had needs it couldn’t satisfy. Her mind transported her to a different place—to a soft, warm bed in a bedroom lit by a blazing log fire.

Sounds of movement in the adjacent bathroom… the door opening… a man silhouetted in the doorway.

He came toward the bed, lifted the sheets and slid beneath them. Lying on his side, he simply looked at her, and the longer he looked, the more aroused she became.

Sasha’s fingers parted her labia once more and tormented the slick pearl concealed beneath. This time she didn’t stop stroking—she carried on, and her mind returned to her fantasy.