A Game Of Love
“I’d like to show you the room
you’ll be sleeping in,” he tells me, walking through the sitting room
without a care in the world.
The floors are
polished. There’s wicker furniture everywhere and there’s a bookshelf in
the corner, neatly lined with magazines and books. I’m sure that
they’re in alphabetical order.
I don’t see Mr. Andrews, though, and it shouldn’t take him this long to park a car.
I’m
glad to see that we stop on the second floor. There are a lot of
stairs, and even though I’m quite fit, I feel sweat beading on my
forehead already.
“This will be your room,” he says, opening
the door to an incredibly spacious room. The bed is framed by a blue
canopy, with a matching bed spread and pillowcases. I also spot a
walk-in closet and as I survey the entire room, I think to myself that I
seriously don’t need all this space. There’s a vanity table by the bay
windows that probably look out over the front yard. A flat screen
television lines the wall. I didn’t think they made such long screens.
I
also see that there’s one big, ensuite bathroom. Peering inside, I see
that there’s a bathtub, a shower and a hot tub all situated comfortably
in the large space.
“I get this room to myself?” I ask him, eyes wide.
“Not exactly. I have one side of the bed and you have the other.” He clears his throat.
I look at him with surprise, not sure what to say.
His cheeks are flushed, and I feel the same warmth spreading across my face.
“You mean we’re going to be sleeping in the same bed.” I want to make sure I have this right.
“We are husband and wife for thirty days. I think we can manage. Don’t you agree?” His steely blue eyes challenge me.
“Yes. I do.” I nod my head and we share a small laugh.
This is going to be better than I thought.
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