Chapter 16
How was the hearing? Want to talk?
Message from James to Ethan
Ethan
“You’re taking me to the basement?” Grace asked, frowning as I pushed the button in the lift. Though at The Darlington, it could hardly be called a basement. To me, a basement was dark and musty, with low ceilings and cobwebs in every corner—but the hotel’s lowest floor had far more to offer.
“Looks like it.”
“What are you planning?”
“You’ll see in a moment.”
“If you’re about to throw me into a sex dungeon, a warning would be nice.”
“Do you really think The Darlington has a sex dungeon?”
“Maybe. I wouldn’t put it past you rich people. You’re all pretty weird.”
I couldn’t argue with that. When you had a lot of money, you bought all sorts of strange things—not because you needed or wanted them, but simply to own them and prove to others that you could have anything you wanted. “I’m not taking you to a sex dungeon. I promise.”
“Shame,” Grace muttered so quietly I doubted she meant for me to hear.
But I did—and it did things to both my head and my cock.
This was probably a bad idea, but the thought of leaving Grace to be sad all by herself hadn’t appealed to me.
Not to mention the fact that I’d had a totally shitty day myself and could use the distraction, now that my main—if I was honest, my only—coping mechanism had fallen away.
I’d sat at the bar trying to trick my brain with alcohol-free cocktails, but it hadn’t worked.
It was only talking to Grace that had brought me the slightest bit of relief.
With a barely perceptible jolt, the lift came to a stop and the doors slid open.
The floor was made of light-marble tiles flecked with gold, and even down here, criminally expensive oil paintings hung on the walls.
Columns adorned with floral arrangements lined the corridor, and the air was filled with a pleasant, flowery scent.
Speakers mounted to the walls usually played soothing music for spa visitors, but since this area was closed to hotel guests after ten o’clock, it was completely silent at this hour.
I took Grace’s hand again. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I didn’t usually feel this urge with other women. Holding Grace’s hand felt good in a way I couldn’t quite define. Maybe it was because she needed me just then—to keep herself from breaking under the weight of her pain.
Hand in hand, we stepped out of the lift. I led Grace along the corridor until she realised where I was taking her, and her steps faltered.
“You want to go for a swim?”
“Yes. Now’s the best time for it.” No one else was here.
At the risk of sounding like a spoiled brat, I hated having to share the pool with guests.
They knew who I was and never tired of approaching me when all I wanted was to relax after a tough workout.
That was also one of the reasons why I didn’t go to the sauna in the daytime.
I had no problem with nudity; what bothered me was being stared at.
It was partly my own fault. If I hadn’t made sure the tabloids were full of headlines about me, I wouldn’t have this problem.
I should’ve taken a leaf out of Logan’s book—he’d managed to stay completely under the radar. But it was far too late for that now.
“The pool’s closed,” Grace said.
“Not for me.”
“But . . .”
Her protest died away as I used my key card to unlock the door.
It opened onto the hotel’s indoor pool—a grotto-like retreat that seemed a world away from the chill of London.
The air was warm and humid, perfect for the tropical plants growing in beds around the room.
The walls were stone-clad, and an artificial waterfall, which also served as a filter system, splashed gently at the back of the pool.
Even during the day, the lighting here was dim, but at this hour, the only real source of light came from the pool lights, making the water shimmer.
The ceiling was inlaid with hundreds of tiny spotlights that imitated the night sky, though they barely gave off any light.
“Wow,” Grace breathed.
I closed the door behind us, and while she looked around in amazement, I began to take off my shoes and socks, followed by my jacket and shirt. I placed my clothes on one of the loungers by the pool, then undid the button on my trousers.
“What are you doing?!” squealed Grace behind me.
I glanced over to where she stood frozen by the pool’s edge, eyes wide. “I’m undressing.”
“I see that,” she said. “But why?”
“To go for a swim. Like I said.”
Grace’s eyes flicked to my boxers before hastily returning to my face.
She was clearly making an effort not to stare at the outline of my cock.
It was almost funny how hard she tried not to find me attractive.
When she’d first started cleaning my flat, I hadn’t noticed.
Over time, I’d started catching the furtive glances when she thought I wasn’t looking.
But the only reason I’d caught her looking was because I liked looking at Grace myself.
I clearly remembered the day I’d first properly noticed her.
It had been almost exactly a year ago. She’d already been working at the hotel, but we’d never crossed paths.
I’d had a brutal weekend—too much booze and weed—and my head was pounding worse than ever when, all of a sudden, a hoover started up.
It had felt like a drill tearing through my brain.
I’d stormed angrily into the living room wearing nothing but my underwear, ready to give Tanya a piece of my mind—she’d been taking care of my family’s private floor for some time.
But the woman in my flat wasn’t Tanya. It was Grace.
The first thing she ever heard from me were the insults and accusations I’d hurled at her for doing her job.
She’d hated me ever since, and I couldn’t blame her.
It hadn’t exactly been my finest moment.
Yet instead of backing down, Grace had given me a proper telling-off.
Hardly anyone ever dared to put me in my place—probably one of the reasons she’d fascinated me from the start.
She was as beautiful as she was self-assured, though I could tell Amy’s death had shaken that confidence.
“We don’t have bathing suits with us,” Grace said, jolting me out of my memories.
“Have you never swum in your underwear?”
“No, because normal people don’t have round-the-clock access to a pool.”
I put my trousers with the rest of my clothes and went to the steps leading into the water. “There’s a first time for everything.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why? Can’t you swim?” I asked, descending into the pleasantly warm water. I loved this pool, especially when I had it to myself. It was long enough to swim laps, and was two metres deep at its deepest point.
“Of course I can swim!” Grace snarled. “Very well, if you must know.”
I looked up at her. “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”
“That’s not the problem.”
“So what is it?”
“I’m not wearing any underwear,” she admitted quietly. “At least, not a bra.”
Now it was my turn to keep my eyes from wandering, even though I was pretty sure her thick pink jumper hid everything. “I’m not wearing a bra either.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
“Who cares? They’re just boobs. I’ve seen plenty before.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“Worried yours won’t measure up?” I asked, teasing.
Grace folded her arms, her gaze sharp as knives. “For your information, I have very nice breasts.”
“Prove it.”
“Nice try, but no.”
“Go on,” I said, swimming over to the edge of the pool where she stood. Bracing my arms on the cool tiles, I added, “It’s so dark in here that I can hardly see a thing. I can turn around until you’re in the water, if you want.”
Grace eyed the pool cautiously, and I could practically see her resistance begin to crumble. Finally, she let out a sigh and dropped her arms. “All right, I’ll come in. But you have to turn around. And don’t you dare peek!”
“I would never,” I promised, turning my back to her.
For a moment, there was silence. Then came the rustle of clothes, followed by footsteps and the gentle splash of water as Grace climbed down the pool steps.
“Can I turn around now?”
She groaned, irritated. “If you must.”
I turned—and for a second, my breath caught in my throat.
The light reflecting off the water made her skin shimmer and traced delicate patterns across her face.
She’d pinned up her blond hair, leaving her bare shoulders and the graceful curve of her neck exposed. “What do you think?” I managed to ask.
I had to remind myself to keep my eyes above the surface of the water as she swam towards me. The water concealed and blurred a lot, but not everything. “It’s . . . nice.”
“You’ve been using that word quite a lot in relation to me lately.”
“The pool and the water are nice,” she clarified. “I wasn’t talking about you.”
“Someday I’ll make you see that I’m a nice guy.”
“Tell that to all the women whose hearts you’ve broken.”
“I’ve never broken a heart,” I assured her.
“Despite what you may think, I don’t use women for sex.
We use each other for fun. They know what they’re getting into with me—and they get into it happily and of their own free will.
They get what they want. I get what I want.
No broken hearts, only satisfied needs—every single time.
” The last part sounded less like a statement than a promise I would fulfil if Grace ever let me touch her.
“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
“Because there’s no reason not to be,” I shot back, starting to swim circles around her. “What about you?”
“What?”
“Do you ever have sex just for the fun of it or only when you’re in a relationship?
” It was a dangerous question to ask. Until now, there’d always been a clear boundary between us, but in recent days, the line had become more and more blurred.
And not just for me. Grace’s presence here was proof enough of that.
Just three months ago, she would have given me hell for suggesting we go for a night swim together, yet here we were.
I felt an overwhelming urge to pull her to me and slide my tongue between her lips.
“Sex in a relationship is fun.”
“Just as I thought—you’re more the make-love type.”
“That’s not what I said,” she protested. “I’m not a prude!”
“You made me turn around so I wouldn’t see your breasts.”
“That’s a you-problem. Not an I’m-a-prude-problem.”
I stopped swimming circles around Grace and swam towards her, her eyes locked on me.
I stopped right in front of her. All that separated me now from feeling her breasts against me was one single, tiny step.
The lack of distance changed the air between us, charging it with something that sparked and tingled.
“And I think it’s a you’re-afraid-problem. ”
She looked up at me. “Afraid of what?”
I raised my hand and ran my fingertips gently over her cheek. Despite the sound of the waterfall, I could hear her breath catch as I stroked her jaw. It was a dangerous game I was playing, but I couldn’t help myself. “Afraid of getting hooked on me if we ever did fuck.”
Grace rolled her eyes, but I could tell it was just to mask how much my touch unsettled her. Goosebumps rose along her arms. Yet she didn’t swim away from me, even though there was nothing holding her here except her own free will. “Do you often think about having sex with me?”
I slid two fingers under her chin, tilting her head up to make her look at me.
The light from the water was reflected in her brown eyes.
She tried to look away and resist the growing tension between us, but her attention jerked back to me like a magnet.
Her lips parted slightly, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way my closeness made her skin flush a deep red.
“Do you really want to know?” I asked softly, letting my fingers trace from her chin down to her neck.
I felt her pulse flutter beneath my touch. She nodded.
“Yes. I do,” she confessed.
I moved closer until our bodies touched. “I think about it pretty much every time I see you. Ever since that very first time you stood in my flat, giving me a piece of your mind. You can be shameless, rude, and forward—but you’re also absolutely stunning.”
“You’re lying,” Grace murmured, breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly. With each sharp inhale, the hard buds of her nipples brushed against my skin. I wasn’t sure if she was aware, but I felt it deep in every fibre of my being. It was enough to make me hard.
“Why should I lie?” I ran my thumb gently over her lower lip. The urge to pull her close and kiss her was overwhelming. “You’re beautiful, smart, and not afraid to speak your mind. It drives me wild to be near you all the time without being able to have you. You feel the same about me, right?”
She shook her head, yet when I leant forward, she came towards me without a moment’s hesitation. Our lips were almost touching. Her hands glided over my chest, and her eyes wandered across my face with a restless, almost pleading expression.
I gave a crooked smile. “Who’s the liar now?”