I pulled my shoes off and hesitated. My socks were just as dirty, and under those, my feet wouldn’t be much better. I’d been living like a street rat for weeks. I needed a shower, and I knew it. Badly.
“I, um.” I hesitated as Janson turned to look at me. “I don’t think I can walk on these carpets; I’ll get them all dirty.”
He chuckled. “All right then. Let me carry you to the bathroom. You can get a shower, and I’ll root around and find some clean clothing.”
“What about my clothing?” I asked.
“I’m sure they have an incinerator around here somewhere,” he joked as he grabbed me and swooped me up into his arms. His big strong muscular arms. He acted like I was nothing. It would be a lie if I didn’t admit I’d dreamt of this moment more than once.
I just didn’t want to desperately need a bath when it happened.
He crinkled his nose but said nothing, and I was grateful. It was so damn embarrassing.
“That bad?” I asked.
“Smells like you lived in a cloud of pot smoke,” he admitted.
“I did.” A slow grin broke out over my face, and he walked through the hallway until he got to the bathroom where he set me down.
“Thanks,” I said, suddenly awkward.
We both were.
“I’ll go see if I can scrounge something up for you.” He ducked out of the room, and I turned and tried not to scream in mortification.
I never thought I would see any of the Fitzgerald crew again, let alone Janson Mactavish. I’d washed my hands of that reality. Of men like him.
I turned on the shower and started stripping off my clothing piece by piece. They were not in the best condition, at least that was what I thought, but I realized once they were off that he was right. They needed to be burned.
“f*ck
,” I muttered as I stepped into the shower, the piping hot water bringing immediate relief. This was a nightmare. I’d come here with such high hopes, but really all I got was a steaming pile of disappointment.
The water beaded down my body as I moaned into the shower walls. It was heaven to feel that strong water cleansing away all the grime of that damn place.
“Kathryn?”
“Kat, call me Kat.” I hadn’t been Kathryn for years, at least not to anyone but my family.
“Kat, you decent?”
“I’m in the shower.” Thankfully, it was fogged up because he came in anyway.
“I brought you a nightgown and a stiff drink. Figured you might need one. I’ll leave it here on the cabinet.” I wanted him to linger, but he left. My heart returned to its normal pace. I hadn’t realized it had sped up.
I wanted him.
My body ached to be touched, to be held, and I knew the truth. I knew what I wanted. I’d spent my entire life letting anyone else, everyone else, tell me exactly what they wanted, and putting my own needs to the side.
Not anymore.
I was going to go after my desires.
I turned off the shower and stepped out of it, drying myself off before I grabbed the satin gown.
It was soft and sleek and I knew when I put it on that it would hug every single curve I had. I pulled it over my head and let it drape down me. It was a good fit. Not perfect, but good, and it hugged me in all the right places.
I grabbed the whiskey with one hand and opened the door with the other. I knew what I wanted, and I’d decided in the shower that there was no more time to waste.
I would have it.
I would have him.
Chapter Two
Kathryn
I walked into the living room to find Janson sitting on the couch that overlooked the lake. It really was breathtaking. So I sipped my drink and stared out over the landscape below. The city lights twinkled off the reflection in the lake, the cool wind blowing on the trees below us.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“Almost as nice as the Bay,” he said as he stood and walked towards the window.
“You have a penthouse like Greyson?” I asked, looking at him through the side of my eye.
“Yeah, something like that.” His eyes lingered over me and I felt myself blush. He was looking at me in a way I hadn’t seen before. Like he was seeing me as an adult for the first time. The deep hues of his green eyes flickered across my body and down me, then back up.
Oh, he was seeing me, all right. And I wanted him to. I felt my body respond to him, and my nipples hardened against the silky satin of the nightgown. I knew he could see it, too. But I just stood there, my eyes half-lidded as I looked at him and said, “It’s so gorgeous.”
“Yes, it is.” He wasn’t looking at the view, he was looking right at me. It was my only chance, so I walked over to him and he stood so close to me that I could feel the body heat radiating from him. I could smell the scotch on his breath. He’d been drinking.
“Why does it seem like you aren’t talking about the view anymore?” I asked as I bit my lower lip and took him all in. He wasn’t looking anywhere else but at me.