Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“Umm…” She bites her lip, clearly torn, while I wait with bated breath for her to decide. “It’s fine.” Shaking her head, she opens up the way to me. “Come in.”
My heart beats harder as I step into…her house? “Thanks.”
“Do you want a drink?” Her question is full of uncertainty as she leads the way down the hall to some stairs.
“Some water would be good.” I need some moisture in my mouth fast.
“The kitchen is in the basement.” She leads me down some polished wooden stairs, and we step into the kitchen.
I force my eyes away from her so I can scan the space. “Nice,” I say, taking in the perfectly traditional room, all cherry wood and dark marble, with double doors leading into a small courtyard. The spotlights shining down from the ceiling reflect off the stone counters, sending shards of amber lights streaking up the cream walls.
Raya fetches a glass of water and hands it to me. Our fingers brush. Our eyes meet. Electric shocks tingle up my arm. She swallows. “I should show you around.”
This is painfully awkward. “Sure.”
“So, this is the kitchen.” She motions around and wanders through to an adjoining room. “Casual dining room and chill out space.” Three huge leather couches are arranged in a U-shape around a TV hanging on the wall. “I’m down here most of the time.”
I’m down here most of the time. Not we? “Five floors?” I ask, not bothering to take notes. I’m pretty sure my hands wouldn’t be steady anyway, so I start mentally storing details in what vacant space I have in my mind—space Raya isn’t hogging.
“Including the basement and attic space, yes.” Our gazes collide, and she quickly looks away again.
Coughing my throat clear, I wander around, my spinning mind starting to make me dizzy. She’s a sports therapist. How the hell can she afford this place? My eyes home in on a collection of photographs across the way, neatly arranged on a console table. My feet are carrying me over before I can stop myself, my curiosity out of control.
There are at least a dozen pictures, all Raya in various places across the world. She’s in front of the Louvre doing a cartwheel, she’s in front of the White House doing a handstand, she’s outside a temple meditating. I smile, completely struck by the beauty shining from her in every picture, by the potency of her happiness. In every picture, she’s beaming, whether she’s looking at the camera or not. And then my smile fades as I see the final photograph. I move forward without thought, taking in the couple standing in the clouds at the top of a mountain. Raya and a man.
My shoulder jars as she passes me swiftly, taking the picture and laying it face down. I flinch at the brief contact.
“There’s a gym through here and a sauna and Jacuzzi.” She gets on her way, leaving me motionless by the console table, my eyes passing between Raya’s back and the picture that I now can’t see.
My frown is too deep to hide as I follow her down a narrow corridor, emerging into a well-equipped gymnasium. “Do you work out mu—” My arm brushes hers as I enter, the heat burning away the remaining words of my question. I swallow hard, flicking a look at her. She’s not looking at me, but she’s holding her arm where I just touched her.
“Not really.” She nods through to another room. “The spa is through there.”
I force myself to the doorway, scanning the white-tiled space. “All maintained and working?” I ask, battling to bring us back to business.
“Yes.” She backs out of the room, turning on her bare feet. “I’ll show you the other floors.”
How on earth am I going to manage another four floors? “Six bedrooms?” I ask, following her back down the corridor and up the stairs from the kitchen. Her cropped trousers give me a perfect view of her slender ankles, my eyes placing that spreader bar there again.
“Seven,” she says over her shoulder. “All doubles, five with en-suites. But first the lounge and the formal dining room.”
It doesn’t matter how hard I try; my mind is way too occupied by Raya to pay close attention to the house I’m here to value. I barely register the grandeur, hardly absorb the exquisite luxury surrounding me. There is only Raya.
This woman radiates sex. She’s cryptic. She is temptation personified, and it’s a constant struggle not to grab her and kiss her. Or to tie her down and get the information my annoying head is demanding. I can’t take my eyes off her. Can’t dampen down the constant flow of questions. She’s like a magnet, pulling and pushing me away.
My heart is pulsing in my ears by the time we make it upstairs, my restraint bending every time our eyes meet. It’s going to break soon. I can see a replay of last night rolling in her dark eyes, her mind clearly not focused on giving me a tour, her hands shaking every time she points something out, her breathing labored when she talks to me.