In the lobby, Maddie pulls her hand free of mine. "See you in the morning."
"Morning? No, you can't go. We haven't even had dinner yet."
"I'm pooped, so maybe I'll just order room service."
"We can do that together." Am I desperate to keep her near me? Yes, and I'm not ashamed of that fact. I'll beg if necessary. "Please, Maddie, stay with me."
"For dinner, you mean."
"All night. I promise I won't seduce you, but I'd love to—" I stop mid-sentence as I realize what I intend to say next. I can't believe I'm about to suggest it, but I will suggest it. I want this more than I've wanted anything in a long time. "I'd love it if you stayed with me in my suite for the duration. For the whole two weeks. Just sleeping together, actually sleeping, is all I want for tonight."
She stares at me, not blinking, her lips parted.
Maybe I've stunned her so badly she can't comprehend what I've said. I can't quite comprehend it either. Just sleep with her? All night? She won't be sore for more than a few days, I imagine, but I absolutely would love to spend every night with her body cradled against mine while we sleep.
"It's too much, isn't it?" I ask, though I'm hoping she'll disagree with me.
Maddie bites her upper lip, still eying me with a strange expression.
Now I've ruined it. She's horrified, and she's about to tell me to sod off. Well, being American, she'll probably tell me to go to hell.
A smile stretches her lips little by little. "I would love to do that. Should I give up my room?"
"That's up to you. Dane and Rika are paying for it, after all. If you want to keep it strictly so they won't be offended, that's your decision."
"Rika doesn't need to know. She's my sister, not my keeper."
"You're doing it, then? Moving in with me?"
Her smile gets even bigger, so bright that her happiness warms me too. "Yes, I'm moving in with a guy I just met. I've lost my mind, but this feels too damn good to question it. I'll give up my room in case someone else needs it. The resort did overbook once. They might do it again."
We've both lost our minds, apparently, but I agree with Maddie. This feels too good to worry about it. I don't want to worry about anything for these two weeks. Why should I worry? I have an incredible woman who wants to share my suite and my bed, even if we don't have sex.
"I'll help you get your things," I say, "and bring them to my—oursuite. Do you think I need to inform the resort that you'll be staying with me?"
"Probably. They'll charge more for a second occupant, I'm sure."
"Let's take care of that first."
"You go do that while I shove my stuff into suitcases." She kisses me and pats my chest. "I think you can live without me for ten minutes."
"What if I can't? I might expire right here in the lobby, starved to death by the lack of your presence."
"I think you'll pull through."
She kisses me again and jogs off to her room.
I watch her shapely arse until she turns down a hallway, out of sight.
Once I've informed the desk clerk about the new arrangement, and I've signed a slip of paper to acknowledge I'm willing to pay the extra fees, I sit down on one of the sofas in the large lobby to wait for Maddie. Any amount of money is worth it to have her with me. Of course, the only other time she's been in my suite, we were shagging on every piece of furniture for hours and hours. When she walks into that suite again, I might experience an overpowering urge to reenact last night.
But I won't do it. I'm not a bastard.
No, I will not ravish her tonight. Not even if she calls me Rick in that sultry purr.
I'm contemplating the strength of my willpower when my mobile rings. The second I answer, I wish I hadn't.
"Good day, Mr. Hunter," says a feminine voice I've heard too often lately, so often that I recognize her Austrian accent after hearing her speak four words. "This is Ilsa Weingartner, personal assistant to Sir Dexter Armstrong-Hill."