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"Rubbish." I sweep her up in my arms. "It's never too early to enjoy a decadent feast."
"Not hungry enough for that."
I wink. "Did I say I meant to feast on food? No, love, it's you I hunger for."
Chapter Twelve
Avery
He hungers for me. When Hugh spoke those words, I felt deliciously warm and ready for anything he wanted to do to me. But after he carried me to the bar and set me down on a stool, we both realized we're too raw for sex. Confessions take a lot out of a person. Hugh told me about his time in Scotland at last, and I finally get why he's been so off balance lately. I hadn't known him before his life changed, but his mom told me enough that I know he used to be confident and in command.
Now he worries about everything.
We enjoy an early dinner, but then I go back to my hotel. Hugh insists on driving me there. He walks me to my suite and kisses me good night, though he keeps it chaste. Hugh kisses my hand too, then walks away.
I dream about him, though not the way I would've expected. In my subconscious fantasies, we hold hands and take romantic walks together. We cuddle on the sofa, make each other laugh, and do all the things a not-phony couple would do. I wake up in the morning feeling weird, like I actually did all those things with Hugh, but I didn't.
Would he want a real relationship with me? Do I want that with him? Our lives are so complicated. Not sure we could ever merge our lifestyles. I travel wherever clients need me while Hugh clearly prefers to stay home—in London or at Sommerleigh. I told Hugh I've gotten tired of my vagabond lifestyle, but I neglected to mention that I'm terrified of trying to change that. What if I lose my upscale clients and can't attract normal ones? Worst of all, what if my fake relationship with Hugh ruins my business?
I'd wanted to sleep with Hugh yesterday. But that's a bad idea. I can't help wanting him, and I seem incapable of resisting the man, whether he tries to seduce me or I try to get him hot and bothered. From now on, I need to behave like he's my client—when we're alone. Our fake dating can continue, but it will not bleed into our client and consultant relationship.
Never mind that phone sex incident. Or the fact I removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt yesterday. Or the times I kissed him. And it absolutely does not matter that I like him and feel…protective of him. No, that means nothing.
He's my client, period.
Now that I've reasserted my ethics, I get dressed and eat breakfast, then head out the door intending to go to Hugh's office. I halt on the threshold of my suite, with my hand on the knob, ready to shut the door. Where am I going? It's Saturday. Hugh won't be in his office today. Last weekend, we went on a date on Saturday night and didn't see each other on Sunday. I'd assumed he needed a break from seeing me, and I'd been fine with that. I had not missed him. But last night I dreamed about Hugh, and this morning I rushed out of my suite intending to see him, though I have no legitimate reason to do that.
I am not falling for Hugh Parrish. It's impossible.
Since I have nowhere I need to go, I walk back into my suite and change into sweats and a T-shirt, then I watch TV. Wow, is that boring. When I get sick of reality shows about people hunting for luxury vacation homes, I pick up my cell phone and start to punch in a number—Hugh's number.No, no, no, you need distance from him, not cuddle time with Lord Steamy.I swear I used to have self-control, but I seem to have misplaced it on the flight from New York to London.
I call my brother instead.
"Avery?" Derek says sleepily when he answers his phone. "It's four o'clock in the morning."
"Oh no, I forgot. I'm so sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."
"You forgot what time zone you're in?" Rustling suggests he's sitting up or at least coming to full wakefulness. He doesn't sound sleepy anymore when he says, "Avery Hahn always knows where she is, what she's doing, and what time it is. You don't do scattered-brained."
"I am feeling a little off today. It's nothing to worry about."
"What has that client of yours done to you? Must be running you ragged."
"Honestly, you're being ridiculous. I'm tired, that's all."
Since I muted the TV but didn't turn it off, I can see the spoiled people on the screen turning their noses up at perfectly nice houses. I wouldn't mind buying a house on a tropical beach somewhere if I could spend my days lounging on the sand while Hugh massages suntan lotion into my skin.
Ugh.How did Hugh get into my daydream?
"Avery," Derek snaps with enough volume that I jerk my phone away from my ear for a split second. "Are you listening?"
"No, sorry, I wasn't."
"Okay, now I know something is wrong. Must be that mysterious client of yours."
I make a frustrated noise and thump my hand on the sofa cushion. "Butt out of my life, would you? I'm a grown woman, and I don't need my big brother to fix my life."
"Your life needs fixing?" Derek pauses, then his voice drops to a near whisper. "It's that Lord Steamy guy, isn't it? I trolled the London tabloids a few days ago, and I saw you with him. Hoped you would tell me you're involved with that guy on your own, but you haven't. I just gave you at least three openings in our conversation, but you still didn't tell me about him. What kind of douche calls himself Lord Steamy, anyway?"
