The Chatsfield Collection Books 1-8. Annie West
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revealing a tantalising trail of black hair that arrowed down from his belly button. His abdomen was superbly defined, gorgeously lean and tautly muscled.
She swallowed as his hand absently started scratching at his lower stomach. She felt like a voyeur, getting off on watching him. Was there a man alive who looked more outrageously delicious? He had been wearing dark blue underpants when she’d found him earlier but she suspected he was naked now because she’d found a pair of underpants in the shower stall along with a used towel. She could see the contour of his penis, the way it seemed to swell before her eyes, as if he were dreaming of something richly erotic.
His hand went lower and Lottie abruptly cleared her throat, her face so hot it felt like it was on fire. ‘Ahem. You’ve got company. Might want to keep that for when you’re alone.’
His eyes opened and he blinked a couple of times as if trying to place her. ‘Lottie?’
‘At your service—I mean, not in that sense.’ She waved her hands about the room, her blush deepening. ‘I was just tidying up … a bit….’
He propped himself up on one elbow, his brow frowning. ‘Did you get the painting?’
‘I did.’ She brandished it proudly. ‘I had a ball—er, I mean, heaps of fun.’ What was wrong with her mind that it kept sinking into the gutter?
‘Good girl.’ He lay back down with a sigh and closed his eyes again.
She gnawed at her lip for a moment. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Marvellous.’
‘You don’t look it.’
‘Thanks. Appreciate it.’
‘I mean, your colour’s not right.’ Lottie tentatively approached the bed. ‘Have you had anything to eat or drink?’
‘No.’
‘What about if I get you something? Some light broth or one of those rehydrating drinks. I could call up room service if you—’
He cracked open one eye and gave her a wry look. ‘Might as well tip it straight down the toilet and cut out the middleman.’
‘That bad, huh?’
‘Get me an eye of a needle and I’ll prove it.’
She winced in sympathy. ‘It’s okay, I get the picture.’
There was a little silence.
‘Thanks for getting the painting for me.’
Lottie felt a warm glow come over her. ‘It was heaps of fun. There was this old guy there who was pretty determined to outbid me. I dug my heels in. I didn’t care how much I had to pay, I was not leaving without that painting. It was such an adrenaline rush when it was over. I felt like I’d won a race or something. Can you get an endorphin rush from an auction, do you think?’
He gave her another one-eyed look. ‘How much did you pay for it?’
‘Um …’ She pulled at her lower lip again. ‘I can chip in if you think I overdid it.’
His mouth came up in a weak half-smile. ‘I’m sure I can manage it. I’m a filthy-rich playboy, remember?’
Lottie gave him a sheepish look. ‘About what I said yesterday …’
‘I deserved it.’ His gaze went to her mouth, his smile fading as his frown returned. ‘How’s your lip?’
She touched the tiny spot with the tip of her tongue. ‘It’s fine. I should use lip balm more often. Madeleine is always nagging me about taking better care of myself.’
His eyes meshed with hers, searchingly, as if he was trying to solve a mystery inside her gaze. ‘I like that pink outfit you’re wearing.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Why do you dress in such drab gear all the time?’
Lottie looked down at her hands, rubbing her finger over her bitten-down thumbnail in a circular pattern. ‘It’s a habit I got into. A way of giving everyone the finger about their criticisms of me.’
‘The press?’
‘Yes. And the public.’ She met his dark gaze again. ‘I’ve never been the picture-perfect princess like Madeleine. I don’t think anyone’s ever taken a bad photo of her. Every time there’s a camera around I freeze. I feel awkward. I stiffen up. I can’t act natural when I know someone’s looking at me. And of course the press love those caught-off-guard shots without make-up or sweaty from the gym … or stumbling out of a helicopter looking green.’
‘So you don’t play ball rather than try hard and then get criticised for it.’
She saw something in his gaze she had never seen there before. Kindness. Understanding. She let out a slow breath and another notch of tightness in her chest loosened. ‘That boyfriend I told you about? It kind of started with that.’
His frown shadowed his eyes. ‘He criticised you?’
‘Not like that as such.’ She picked at a rough edge on what was left of her fingernail. ‘He took photos of me. Of us … when we were … you know …’
‘And you didn’t know about it?’
She looked at him again. ‘Not until I saw them on his phone. He’d set it up on remote control. I was horrified. It was like a nightmare I’d stumbled into. I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. He’d shared the photos with some of his friends. Luckily my father was able to pull some strings to stop the images going viral. You can imagine the scandal it would have caused.’
His frown was so deep it made him look ten years older. ‘So you’ve pushed everyone away ever since?’
Lottie got to her feet and smoothed her skirt down over her thighs. She never talked about this stuff. To anyone. Ever. Why was she spilling all to Lucca Chatsfield, of all people? He’d had his latest bedroom antics splashed over the London tabloids the week before. He probably had an archive full of juicy boudoir shots. ‘I should let you rest. I’ve cancelled our flight back. I think we should wait and see how you’re feeling in the morning. Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor?’
‘No, it’s just a virus. Hope you don’t catch it.’ He lay back with a weary sigh. ‘I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.’
There was another silence.
‘I saw the picture you drew of me.’
He didn’t open his eyes but she thought she saw his body tense momentarily. ‘It’s just a doodle.’
‘I didn’t know you could draw like that.’
He made a dismissive sound.
‘You’re really talented, Lucca. Really talented.’
He opened that one dark satirical eye again. ‘So if I asked you to come and see my etchings you’d come in a flash?’
Lottie gave him a prim look to disguise the track her mind was taking at his double entendre. ‘I might appear naive but even I wouldn’t fall for that hackneyed line.’
He gave her a rueful smile that had a tilt of sadness to it. ‘You’re a nice kid, little princess. You should stay away from bad boys like me.’
She put on a confident smile that took far more effort than it should. ‘I intend to.’
LUCCA WOKE TO a raging thirst. He reached for the lamp switch, grimacing as the sweat-soaked sheets clung to his body like plastic wrap. He raked a hand through the stickiness of his hair and gingerly swung his legs over the edge