Opening the door showed that there was no key on the other side either. But there was definitely another suite.
If her suite was a woman’s, then this one was obviously a man’s. No delicate furniture here, but massive, solid oak. The room was lived-in. Colorful pillows were piled on the carpeted floor in front of an extensive stereo system, magazines littered the coffee table, a huge oak desk stood in one corner by the balcony doors, covered with papers.
Moving slowly through the suite, Kendall found that the color scheme of deep brown and rust was continued in the bedroom. The bed was king-size, neatly made up. She halted by the dresser and gazed down at what was obviously a man’s pocket change and wristwatch. Uh-huh. She knew that watch. Her life had taught her to be observant. And her earlier softened feelings toward the man hardened in a wave of anger. Damn him!
The sound of water splashing from the bathroom drew her attention, and Kendall headed in that direction, holding the basket in much the same way one would have hefted a hand grenade. She halted two steps into the room and stared at the deep brown sunken tub.
“I might have known.” Her voice was a peculiar mixture of anger and resignation. “Do you
mind
telling me how I happened to land in the suite next door?”
“It was the only one available,” Hawke replied innocently, leaning back in the water and surveying her taut figure. “I’m sure Rick told you—”
“He told me. And—fool that I was—I believed him.” Kendall kept her eyes fixed on his face, trying to ignore the expanse of hair-roughened, muscled chest visible from where she was standing. She held up the basket. “I presume you left this?”
“Of course.” He languidly moved a large bath sponge across his chest, drawing her eyes in spite of herself. “A … memento of last night.”
“I don’t need any reminders, thank you!” she snapped. “What I
need
is another room.”
“Sorry—none available. I don’t see why you’re so upset,” he went on in a reasonable tone. “I’ve already given you my word not to force you into anything. And that suite’s much nicer than the room you had before.”
Quite suddenly Kendall’s anger became directed at whoever had occupied that suite before her. A woman’s room, and right next door to him … “I hope no one was—dispossessed—because of me,” she said in a voice that sounded strange to her own ears.
Something very like satisfaction flickered in his gray eyes, and then was gone. “If you’re inferring—and I gather you are—that the room was occupied by my—er—paramour, you couldn’t be more wrong. It’s usually reserved for my mother when she comes to visit.”
Kendall didn’t want to believe him. But she did.
“Would you like to wash my back?” he dead-panned, holding up the sponge.
“I’d like to drown you.” She eyed him irritably.
He looked hurt. “At least thank me for the present.”
Trying not to feel ungracious, Kendall shored up her dignity. “Thank you very much. But I can’t possibly accept it, of course.”
“Why not? I picked up some shells and put them in a basket, Kendall. It’s not expensive, and certainlynot what you could call an intimate present. Coming out!”
The warning gave Kendall scant time to turn her back, but she managed the feat. Face flaming, and cursing him silently for catching her off guard, she beat a hasty retreat back to her own rooms. And she was furious with herself.
Kendall was not easily embarrassed. She had been in parts of the world where naked bodies were the rule rather than the exception, and it had never bothered her. But this man had succeeded in embarrassing her more than she liked to remember. He kept her off guard and off balance … and unnerved.
She fought another cowardly impulse to run like a thief, placed the little basket with undue care on her nightstand, and began to get ready for dinner.
As Hawke had already noted, she had very
If her suite was a woman’s, then this one was obviously a man’s. No delicate furniture here, but massive, solid oak. The room was lived-in. Colorful pillows were piled on the carpeted floor in front of an extensive stereo system, magazines littered the coffee table, a huge oak desk stood in one corner by the balcony doors, covered with papers.
Moving slowly through the suite, Kendall found that the color scheme of deep brown and rust was continued in the bedroom. The bed was king-size, neatly made up. She halted by the dresser and gazed down at what was obviously a man’s pocket change and wristwatch. Uh-huh. She knew that watch. Her life had taught her to be observant. And her earlier softened feelings toward the man hardened in a wave of anger. Damn him!
The sound of water splashing from the bathroom drew her attention, and Kendall headed in that direction, holding the basket in much the same way one would have hefted a hand grenade. She halted two steps into the room and stared at the deep brown sunken tub.
“I might have known.” Her voice was a peculiar mixture of anger and resignation. “Do you
mind
telling me how I happened to land in the suite next door?”
“It was the only one available,” Hawke replied innocently, leaning back in the water and surveying her taut figure. “I’m sure Rick told you—”
“He told me. And—fool that I was—I believed him.” Kendall kept her eyes fixed on his face, trying to ignore the expanse of hair-roughened, muscled chest visible from where she was standing. She held up the basket. “I presume you left this?”
“Of course.” He languidly moved a large bath sponge across his chest, drawing her eyes in spite of herself. “A … memento of last night.”
“I don’t need any reminders, thank you!” she snapped. “What I
need
is another room.”
“Sorry—none available. I don’t see why you’re so upset,” he went on in a reasonable tone. “I’ve already given you my word not to force you into anything. And that suite’s much nicer than the room you had before.”
Quite suddenly Kendall’s anger became directed at whoever had occupied that suite before her. A woman’s room, and right next door to him … “I hope no one was—dispossessed—because of me,” she said in a voice that sounded strange to her own ears.
Something very like satisfaction flickered in his gray eyes, and then was gone. “If you’re inferring—and I gather you are—that the room was occupied by my—er—paramour, you couldn’t be more wrong. It’s usually reserved for my mother when she comes to visit.”
Kendall didn’t want to believe him. But she did.
“Would you like to wash my back?” he dead-panned, holding up the sponge.
“I’d like to drown you.” She eyed him irritably.
He looked hurt. “At least thank me for the present.”
Trying not to feel ungracious, Kendall shored up her dignity. “Thank you very much. But I can’t possibly accept it, of course.”
“Why not? I picked up some shells and put them in a basket, Kendall. It’s not expensive, and certainlynot what you could call an intimate present. Coming out!”
The warning gave Kendall scant time to turn her back, but she managed the feat. Face flaming, and cursing him silently for catching her off guard, she beat a hasty retreat back to her own rooms. And she was furious with herself.
Kendall was not easily embarrassed. She had been in parts of the world where naked bodies were the rule rather than the exception, and it had never bothered her. But this man had succeeded in embarrassing her more than she liked to remember. He kept her off guard and off balance … and unnerved.
She fought another cowardly impulse to run like a thief, placed the little basket with undue care on her nightstand, and began to get ready for dinner.
As Hawke had already noted, she had very
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