He dipped his head. “Sure?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Go. Ganz is waiting; the bad guys need to be smashed.”
“Fucking A. You’re a total sweetheart. Thanks.” He rolled off the bed and reached for his shorts. “Take a look in the dressing room. I think I might have found a replacement for the dress I ripped all to hell last night. Let me know if I’m close.”
“How did you manage all this while I slept?” She swept her arm to take in the room full of roses.
He was already zipping up his shorts. “Everyone took off their shoes and they got a bonus if you didn’t wake up.” He grinned. “Money talks, babe. Now,” he said, his voice taking on a briskness she’d not heard before, “I’m on the main floor of the house, halfway down the hall, on the side facing the sea. Come see me when you feel like it. And Henny has breakfast in the kitchen. Just tell him what you want. Or call in an order if you’d rather eat here.” He held her gaze. “We good?”
“Super. I’ll see you later.”
“Don’t forget the stuff in the dressing room, tiger.” His smile was flat-out beautiful. “Hope you like it.”
Chapter 18
Nicole stood arrested in the doorway to the dressing room, staring at the huge pile of gorgeously wrapped packages. Each one was the equivalent of a colorful work of art; it almost seemed sinful to disturb their beauty. Although, bottom line, should she even look? It was outrageously too much. She wondered if this was a common practice for Rafe and if it was, she wasn’t sure she wished to be viewed as one of his legion of women who expected gifts for services rendered.
In the midst of her discordant thoughts, her phone rang and, running back into the bedroom, she picked it up, glanced at the caller ID, and couldn’t help but smile. So call her crazy, but damn he was easy to like.
“I’m about to walk into the computer room, so one last order, pussycat. Open the presents or I won’t fuck you again.”
“How did you know?”
“How did I not know? But look, I wanted to do it, and I want you to like the stuff, so don’t give me any shit. And before you ask, I’ve never ordered gifts for a woman. Ever. So wear something new when you come over. I mean it: open the presents or else there will be dire consequences. Clear?”
“You’ve never ordered gifts?”
It was a question no woman other than Nicole would have asked; all the rest would have taken the presents without a qualm. “Not once in my life. Until now.” Then his voice turned teasing. “That means open them or lose out on my dick.”
“Fucking tyrant.”
“Yeah, but you like the fucking part. Can’t wait to see you in one of your new dresses. Ciao.”
Did he mean it about not fucking her? Yes. Probably.
Could she could talk him out of it? Uncertain.
Did she dare take a chance? She knew the answer to that one.
Funny how awesome, once-in-a-lifetime sex canceled out lesser priorities.
Wallowing in her what-the-fuck, thoroughly selfish happy place, Nicole decided to first smell the roses.
Slowly turning around in the bedroom, she surveyed the multitude of roses in every color of the spectrum before walking out into the hall. Whoa. She came to a sudden stop, glanced left and right, taking note of the considerable length of hallway massed with lush arrangements that stretched to the top of the stairway. Carefully navigating a narrow path leading to the stairs, she descended through a scented sea of roses spilling down to the ground floor, where she came to a wide-eyed stop. Drifts of colorful roses were spread out as far as the eye could see.
Her brain short-circuited, confounded by the incredible extravagance, trying to reconcile the gesture with Rafe’s expectations. With hers. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t reasonably acquainted with wealth. Or that she hadn’t been the object of male attention—even disconcerting levels of adulation on occasion. But this fulsome display was far beyond any previous tribute or interest accorded her. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.
Fiona was always willing to listen to her angst or whining any time of the day or night and it was morning, however early. She’d give her a call. They’d always shared the good, bad, and middling in their lives, talked every problem to death, dealt with the doubts and drama of life, laughed a lot, cried a little, and generally saw the world through the same lens. Moving through the billowing roses, she walked back upstairs to where she’d left her phone.
Fiona answered with a wild giggle. “I’m having so, so, so much fun, Nicole! Tell me you’re as happy as me! Tell me you’re even half as happy as me, a quarter even, and you’ll still be walking on air.”