Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
EVIE
I rapped on Noah’s door. And then I rapped a second time.
After my third knock, he wrenched the door open wearing nothing but faded blue jeans, his hair standing up in damp spikes.
The moisture in my mouth evaporated at the sight of his tanned skin and the droplets of water dotting his collarbone.
I wanted to lick them off, there and then.
‘Where’s the fire?’ he asked, scowling at me.
I stared at him for a moment – Noah had one hell of a body. A tasteful dusting of dark hair across each pec and muscles in all the right places. I did my best not to ogle his lean hips, firm abs and the arrow of hair snaking down beneath his waistband.
‘Downstairs,’ I said, grabbing his arm, my fingers landing on warm skin.
‘What?’
‘Not a fire. But I need you. Angel is giving me a tour of The Royal Suite. Come on.’
‘Er, Evie. I’m not dressed.’
‘I know.’ I beamed at him. ‘It’s perfect. Come on, she’s holding the lift. She’s got the all-clear from Alicia to send up some champagne.’
‘I’m busy.’
‘Noah, you are not busy.’
He stuck his chin out in stubborn denial. I patted his stubbled chin and gave him another gentle tug forward. As he stepped over the threshold, the door clicked shut behind him.
‘And now I’m locked out,’ he growled, the bass in his voice sending a little frisson through me.
‘It’s fine,’ I said, my fingers tingling at the touch of his bare skin. ‘Angel will … will have a master or something.’
‘Hmmph,’ said Noah, glancing up and down the corridor.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not like anyone’s going to take offence at the sight of you.’ I patted his arm again, because I could. ‘You might even make someone’s day. An early Christmas present. Those pecs should come gift wrapped. Do you wax your chest?’
A resigned snort exploded out of his mouth. ‘Evie, you ask the most random things.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘Can’t seem to help it when you’re around.’ It was the truth, he had the strangest effect on me. My filter around him was shot, maybe because I knew he already totally disapproved of me.
His mouth flattened but I could tell he was trying really hard not to smile. ‘Was there a compliment hidden in there?’
‘Yeah, I think so,’ I said, trying to brush it off. ‘Don’t let it go to your head. I didn’t mean it. Come on.’
‘I don’t have much choice,’ he grumbled and fell into step beside me down the corridor to the lift. We had to go down to the ground floor in order to access the private lift to the suite.
As Noah crossed the lobby with his naked chest and bare feet, both Carol and Sofia did a discreet double-take, as did the other occupants of the lobby. Not that I blamed them.
‘Hello, Noah,’ said Angel, greeting us in the lobby of The Royal Suite. Being a complete professional, she didn’t bat so much as an eyelash at the sight of his naked chest. Although behind his back once he’d stepped out of the lift, she looked at me and mouthed, ‘Wow’.
I mouthed back. ‘I know.’
‘What do you think?’ I asked, ushering Noah into the living room.
It was so big it contained a grand piano, along with several sofas and a dozen chairs.
I glanced up at the ceiling with its elaborate plaster mouldings and the grand chandeliers, their crystals shimmering in the light.
The room epitomised understated elegance with the sort of cream upholstery that only someone who didn’t worry about the cost of dry-cleaning bills would ever pick.
In the corner of the room by the window overlooking the lights and decorations of Fifth Avenue was an enormous Christmas tree trimmed in hues of gold and red and decked out with warm white lights that twinkled.
In the room opposite was a black dining table, which could easily seat eight – twelve at a pinch – which was laid with gold cutlery, red damask napkins, gold candles and an enormous glass vase containing an elaborate bouquet of red roses, eucalyptus, pinecones and fir branches.
‘Very nice,’ said Noah, looking around.
‘There’s a gym, a study, a library and a kitchen,’ I said. The entire suite was probably five times the size of my shared flat.
‘Everything your average billionaire needs,’ said Noah with a smile.
‘Don’t tell me, you probably live in one of those small mansion houses out in the home counties, an hour’s drive from London, with extensive garaging for your Ferrari, Range Rover and, oh wait, you’re American, I bet you have one of those great, big trucks.’
Noah laughed. ‘I’ve lived in London and Europe for nearly ten years now. I don’t need a truck. I don’t need a mansion. I do have an apartment, and as you clearly want to know, it’s in Chelsea overlooking the river. Wonderful views.’
I wrinkled my nose. ‘Seriously? That’s a bit boring. I prefer to fantasise about you being a rich, self-indulgent bastard. That is much more rewarding.’
‘Sorry to disappoint,’ said Noah, with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘If it’s any consolation, I drive an Aston Martin and I also have a place in Vale do Lobo, in Portugal.’
‘Ooh. I’m almost impressed. Are you going to take me out in the Aston Martin?’
‘Don’t be, and no, I’m not.
I grinned at him.
‘But you want to,’ I said with an encouraging smile. ‘I’ve never been in an Aston Martin.’
‘I don’t want to,’ he said. ‘Now, why have you dragged me up here?’
I pouted and he grinned at me, completely unperturbed. There’s just something about a man who never gives an inch especially when he’s owning it standing barefoot and bare-chested.
‘It’s the master bedroom en-suite, I really want you to see,’ I said, and led him into the luxurious bathroom with its gorgeous hip bath.
‘Fancy,’ said Noah, turning a complete circle. ‘I’ve seen it. Can I go now?’
I folded my arms. ‘And do what? Alicia says engagement has gone through the roof since…’ I wasn’t going to mention the kiss on the palm. I still got tingles thinking about it, as, it appeared, did my followers. ‘What do you suggest we do to keep followers interested?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Don’t really care.’
‘Noah. Noah. Noah. Am I going to have to tell on you to your agent? How about we take some pictures in the suite?’ I grinned at him encouragingly as I built up the plan. ‘I’ve cleared it with Alicia and she’s on board. She’s sending a bottle of champagne up. In here would be great.’
‘What?’ he said slowly. ‘In here?’
‘Yes. In the bath.’ I indicated the large, roll-top enamel bath with its gold-plated taps and the gold-leaf decorated tiles on the wall before looking at him and then back at the bath. I grinned adding, ‘Toasting each other with champagne.’
Noah shook his head in disbelief. ‘No, just no.’
‘It’s very romantic, and it’ll show your softer side.’
‘I don’t have a softer side.’
‘Everyone loves a will-they-won’t-they build up.’
‘Will-they-won’t-they what?’
I sighed. ‘Kiss … it’s all about perception. Remember. It’s not for real. It’s just for the campaign.’
Noah looked at Angel, who nodded. ‘I think she’s right,’ she said. ‘People love a romance. Let me rustle up a couple of glasses of champagne. I think we can make this work.’
I did not want my New York adventure to end prematurely, and Alicia had told me that yesterday’s video had got far more engagement.
We needed to keep building on that. ‘If Angel takes the picture from the right angle, we could get in the tub and neither of us would even have to take our clothes off.’ Beneath my sweatshirt, I was wearing a sleeveless tank top, and it would take me two seconds to pile my hair on top of my head in a messy bathtime-style bun.
Noah frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive,’ I said with my usual utterly misplaced confidence. I had no idea.
‘Why don’t you hop in the tub and we’ll see,’ said Angel with a mischievous smile.
I clambered in at the taller end of the hip bath, raising my arm pretending to hold up a champagne glass. Noah stood at the edge of the bath looking down at me, his mouth flattened into its usual noncommittal flat line.
‘Sorry, Evie. I can see your tank. Why don’t you take it off and put a towel around you?’ suggested Angel.
She tossed me one of the uber-fluffy towels from the pile on the side.
‘Turn round, Noah,’ I told him.
I stripped off my top and bra and wrapped the towel bandeau-style around my boobs and climbed back in the bath.
‘How’s this?’ I asked.
‘Perfect,’ said Angel. ‘You look naked.’
‘Great,’ I replied. ‘Your turn,’ I told Noah.
‘Are you sure this is necessary?’ he asked.
‘No, it’s not necessary.’ I paused and gave him a taunting smile. ‘Or are you too chicken?’
He raised an eyebrow and stepped into the bath.
I really hadn’t thought this through. The bath was big, but not that big. I hugged my knees to my chest to give him some room, but kept sneaking glances at his chest. It was quite distracting. He stretched out his long legs and a wave of heat rushed over me.
I stretched my denim-clad legs out and shifted to one side. My hand touched one of Noah’s muscled calves, which I could feel through the fabric of his jeans.
‘Sorry,’ I said moving my hand quickly. I wondered what they’d feel like on top of mine. Another burst of heat barrelled its way across my chest and I felt the flush charging up my neck. Please don’t let Noah notice.
Angel held up my phone and screwed up her face, shaking her head.
‘No good, Evie. I can see yours and Noah’s jeans. In fact, it’s really obvious there’s no water in there.’
‘Okay,’ I said.
‘Hey, guys.’ Alicia popped her head around the door, waving a bottle of Piper Heidsieck and two flutes. ‘Aw, that is so cute.’
‘Yeah, but it’s not quite working,’ I said, standing up and looking down at Noah who was reclining half-naked with his arms propped on either side of the bath. With his tanned skin, dark against the crisp white enamel, he looked ten types of hot – thank goodness we had an audience.
‘Alicia,’ said Angel, ‘I’ve got to go. Can you take over here?’
‘’Course I can. See you later.’ Angel hurried away.
‘You need to put some water in there,’ said Alicia, ‘and let the bubbles do their thing. That would totally work.’
‘But…’ I said.
‘But we need to keep followers engaged and it’s going to look sooo romantic.’ Alicia beamed. ‘I should have got some rose petals. Make sure you put lots of bubbles in.’
‘Okay,’ I said, getting into the spirit. ‘We can make it work.’ Then I started thinking about the practicalities. ‘Lots of bubbles and we keep our underwear on.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Noah stepping out of the tub.
‘Yes,’ I said as if it was no biggie. I could be blasé about these things.
Noah raised an eyebrow, looked down at the bathtub and stood up to shuck off his jeans. I’d expected him to put up a bit more of a fight and narrowed my eyes in surprise. He gave me an amused smirk. ‘This was your idea.’
Alicia had already stepped forward, turned on the taps and dumped half a bottle of gardenia scented bath essence into the water.
‘Okay,’ I said overbrightly as Noah stepped out of his jeans. Suddenly taking my clothes off didn’t seem such a good idea. He was all muscle, I was all saggy bits around the middle, which normally didn’t bother me. But normally I wasn’t standing next to a footballing Adonis.
Was it very warm in here?
‘Don’t worry, Evie,’ said Alicia. ‘No one will see anything.’
‘No, I know,’ I said, still reluctant to take my jeans off.
‘If you’re feeling uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this,’ said Noah, with a gentle expression on his face.
We stared at each other, and his eyes were soft, for once not mocking or scowling.
The sudden hiccup in my chest and the swirly feelings in my stomach were the things making me feel uncomfortable.
Noah looked perfectly at ease. Of course he did.
‘Are you feeling uncomfortable?’ I asked, trying to regain my confidence and be my usual cocky self.
‘No,’ he said, and gave me a slow, ever-so-slightly smirky smile. ‘But then I don’t have a problem with nudity. I’m a professional athlete. I often have photos taken of me in not much. My body is my tool.’
‘You keep your tools to yourself,’ I teased, trying to keep things light but suddenly feeling a bit insecure.
He was used to being photographed, often with women in the same sort of league as him, not an unfit, average-looking female whose weekly exercise consisted of weight-lifting a packet of digestives and a daily climb up the stairs to my first-floor flat.
‘You might be used to parading about the locker room and sharing showers with the team with no clothes on, but not me.’
‘Evie.’ Noah’s tone was chiding and teasing at once. ‘You’re happy to make me dangle off a thousand-foot skyscraper when we might actually die.’
‘This is completely different,’ I said, wrinkling my nose.
‘And not dangerous. But you really don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. If it’s any consolation, I’ll probably be in more danger from your toenails than anything else.’
‘Nobody’s in danger from toenails, that’s completely spurious.’ I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh.
‘Evie. I promise I’ll keep my eyes closed and you can arrange the bubbles so I can’t see anything.’
‘But I’ll know,’ I said.
‘Know what.’
‘That you might see my boobs.’
‘Are you chicken?’ he asked with that quirk of his eyebrow.
‘No,’ I replied, jutting my chin out realising that one had come back to bite me.
‘Are they exemplary boobs?’ he asked.
I glanced down at my chest. ‘They’re all my own.’
‘I’ve seen boobs before.’
‘They probably don’t measure up to your standards. I bet you’ve seen plenty of exemplary, model boobs.’
‘It’s okay,’ his face softened and there was kindness in his eyes, as if he understood my stupid insecurities, ‘I’m not a boob man.’
I realised this was a ridiculous conversation.
‘Promise you’ll keep your eyes closed.’
‘Yes.’
‘No, you have to promise.’
‘I promise.’
‘On your legs.’
‘What?’
‘It’s something important to you – like swearing on your mother’s life.’
He sighed. ‘I promise on my legs and my mother’s life that I won’t look.’