Page 12 of Veiled Fantasies

“What about you?” Erik demanded.

“There must be something. I’ll find something.”

I am so screwed.

She could already picture herself wandering the streets. Getting abducted. She’d end up in a harem. All because of that damn volcano! “Worst case, I can sleep on the floor here.” She forced a light tone.

Erik looked at her like she’d suggested pitching a tent in the desert. “On the floor.”

It was a statement, not a question. The words projected a very clear image of a very uncomfortable night into her mind. It was going to be hell.

“It will be fine,” she tried.

He was looking, thinking, and coming to some conclusion. Like how to extract himself from her predicament as quickly as possible, using work as an easy excuse. Business calls, reports to file, that sort of thing.

“I have a suite,” he said, ending with a meaningful pause.

Congratulations.

“It should be big enough to share”—he put his hands up quickly—“I mean, you could have one bed, I could take the other.” He didn’t look delighted, but his voice was firm.

If only she could decide on something so quickly and do what needed to be done without agonizing over the pros and cons for hours, days, weeks even.

Then her brain caught up with her ears. Did he just offer to share a room?

Chapter Five

“Oh, I couldn’t…” Jill protested.

Damn her fine social graces! Why be polite when she wanted to jump and throw her arms around him and shoutYes! A room! With you! Please! Yes!It was Christmas, her tenth birthday, and three genie-in-a-bottle wishes all at the same time.

But all she said was “Thank you, but I really couldn’t.”

“Of course you could. What else will you do?” His gaze was spellbinding, his words an elixir.

Desperate to say no, desperate to say yes, Jill found herself speechless. City streets, camel stables, and the floor of Louise’s room couldn’t hold a candle to bunking with Adonis. But it just wasn’t right.

“I really couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t.” There it was again, the statement that threw everything into sharp relief.

She was trying hard to avoid his eyes, but failed. They were brown like melted chocolate. How could she resist?

His head was tilted slightly sideways, waiting for an answer he would accept. Maybe he felt obliged to help her. A gentleman. What else would Perfect be? Maybe he rescued damsels in distress as a matter of routine. Last week a reformed hooker, this week Jill.

“You could,” he whispered, voice soft, almost seductive.

Her blood pooled like Jell-o, refusing to carry on.I could. I could…

“You let the family accept your offer. So please let yourself accept mine.” He said it as if he had plenty of experience forcing discipline over himself.

Her lips were already forming anobut her tongue pushed a weak acceptance out ahead if it. “Thanks,” she mumbled, defeated and thrilled at the same time.

A quick smile, and he was off for the elevator, checking if she was still with him. That or he was hoping she would magically disappear.

“Thanks,” she said again. Why wasn’t there a word that meant exactly what she felt? Something for the bewildering feeling between grateful and confused.

A short, awkward, and very silent taxi ride later, they were riding the elevator up to the eleventh floor of the new hotel. The elevator doors slid open, and Jill followed Erik out. Was he used to this kind of thing? Bringing women to his hotel room? He didn’t seem nervous. Not like her.

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