Page 50 of The Billionaire's Baby
18
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I step in through the doorway, then feel around for the switch on the wall. My fingers hit it and light floods the space.
I walk through the living room, past the circular settee that faces the fireplace, and to the table pushed up against the big window.
Behind me, I hear the door snick shut. I place my bag on the table, turn to find her standing on the rug in the middle of the room.
"It’s a little bare, huh?" She sweeps her gaze about the place.
"I like it that way. It’s my place to get away from the rest of the world and be myself, a kind of hideaway. Besides, as long as the water and electricity work, we should be fine." I shift my weight between my feet, "Of course, it’s not like we had a choice. Better to be stuck here out of the path of the storm—"
She snickers, "Relax, Ari, I was kidding."
Right.
She holds out both of her hands, "This is pretty luxurious for an out-of-the-way getaway cabin."
"Chalet." I correct her.
She turns to me, "Chalet?"
"That—" I gesture behind me, "the kind of space you find on a yacht is a cabin. I prefer to call this," I jerk my chin toward the structure in front of us, "a chalet."
"Of course, you do." She takes in the space, "Nothing rustic about it, huh?"
"I don’t stint on creature comforts."
"I’m with you there." She half smiles. "I mean, life is short. Why not enjoy the best of everything it can offer along the way?"
"Apparently, we agree on something." I grin.
"What a shocker." She rolls her eyes. "Speaking of, how many rooms do you have here?"
"Why don’t you explore, while I start a fire?"
"Fire?" She glances at the fireplace. "How are you going to do that?"
"Umm, with wood?"
"Where are you going to get the wood from?"
I flex my biceps. "I’m going to chop it of course."
Her jaw drops. "Really?"
I snort, "Of course, not. I have a caretaker from the mainland who comes by every few weeks to make sure everything is in working order. He also stocks the wood in the shed adjacent to the house."
"Oh."
"You almost look disappointed." I chuckle.
"Kind of." She rubs her nose. "The image of you stripped to the waist, chopping wood as you sweat, had a kind of appeal…"
I raise my eyebrow.
"—for all of one second," she adds hastily.
