“Me, too. A hospital visit isn’t in my budget right now.”
“I would’ve covered that cost, too. Are you in need of the ER? I can take you.”
She shook her head a little gingerly and smiled, pointing at her neck. “No, I’m okay. The heating pad and painkiller did the trick. I need to make an appointment with my massage therapist.”
“I’d be happy to cover that cost as well.”
“No, I can take care of myself, Sir. I’d tell you if it was more serious. I hate that I ruined the night with all the drama.”
“You didn’t. Are you planning to tell me how you got this ‘old’ injury?”
“If you’re not the least bit worried about losing what is essentially a customer, what if he makes up stories about your establishment for getting kicked out?”
He let her evasion of his question go, again. It was just a sign he still had work to do in gaining her complete trust. She’d tell him when she was ready.
“Not unless he wants to end up in court. He signed a non-disclosure agreement.”
That gave her pause. “Oh. Well…I haven’t signed one of those yet.”
Noting she’d evidently consider it, he said, “No, but you will if you join the club.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes, as my sub,” he said as he opened the door to his suite.
She put up a hand but didn’t look as if she planned to run back downstairs. “I don’t know you well enough yet to agree to something like that.”
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, fiammetta. Come inside?”
She stood on the threshold, biting her lip as he extended a hand to her, making it clear from this point forward that everything was her choice.
She followed him inside, brave girl.
Samson Cutter’s words rang in his ears. Would he allow competition for her attention? Not likely. He didn’t share with any man, not even a close friend.
“Can I make you something to drink?” he asked as he set her up on the couch and plugged in the heating pad at a nearby outlet. He was worried she might have pain in the coming days, and he felt bad again for not acting faster when he’d first seen Hunter approaching her. He should’ve known.
“Do you have any cocoa up here?” she asked with a good-natured grin. “The boxed instant stuff is fine.”
He licked his lips and chuckled. “Sorry, no cocoa. I can make you a hot toddy, though.” He made a mental note to ask Mrs. Hernandez to add cocoa to her next shopping list.
Cocking an eyebrow at him, she said, “Irish coffee?”
“Sure,” he said, patting her knee. Handing her the remote, he said, “Thumb through the satellite music channels and find a channel you like.”
“I get to pick the mood music? Awesome!” she said, quickly pressing buttons on the universal remote for the home theater system.
“I need you up here at night to help me figure out that remote,” he said, hiding the smile that thought brought to his face as he entered the kitchen.
“It’s easy. I can show you again.”
I want you to show me everything. Now, how best to go about it?
He was in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee for her hot drink when he heard her squeal happily. “Yes! Sing it, Eric!” Her enthusiasm was contagious.
“You can turn it up if you like,” he called.
It was a country and western song, one he wasn’t familiar with. The only country and western music he ever heard was the stuff they played at the Dancing Pony, one of his favorite places away from home. He’d expected Bunny to choose popular dance music, like she’d danced to with Mona and the other subs on the dance floor of the club a little earlier in the evening before Hunter had manhandled her.
He listened to the words, and a smile crossed his lips. “What’s this called?” he hollered.
“‘Like a Wrecking Ball,’ by Eric Church.”
The song had a good beat, and as he listened to it, he began to pick out another voice as she sang along with it. His suite, his private space within his home, had never been graced with such warmth, such animation as she brought to it. Her soft alto voice blended with the singer’s, and he strained to pick out her sultry, honeyed tones and burned himself with the hot coffee.
“Damn it,” he muttered, reaching for the dishtowel to clean up the mess.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, appearing around the corner, her turquoise eyes big with concern as he mopped up the hot spill. “Did you burn yourself?”
“Yes. I wasn’t paying attention.” Just out of curiosity, he held his burned finger out to her across the countertop.