Never had a shower been so welcome. Debra let the lukewarm water stream over her, soaking her hair and body, and reveled in the tingles that still shook her.
The water stung her climax-sensitive skin as she rubbed shower gel over herself. It was worth it and in lieu of the real thing, not half bad.
Her tummy rumbled to remind her not to linger. Debra switched off the shower and toweled herself dry. It didn’t take long to dress and with her laptop under her arm, she made her way to the residents’ lounge for a welcome cocktail.
She couldn’t help the way she scanned the room to see if a certain blond head stood out from the mix of people seated there.
It didn’t. The lump of disappointment that hit her like a lead weight was way too over the top for such a few brief glimpses of someone who, for all she knew, could be a serial ax murderer.
Ah well, obviously not a guest any longer. If he had been in the first place. Grow up and get over it. And quit thinking worst case scenarios. He might have been an eccentric millionaire on his way to Bora Bora or somewhere exotic, with a harem and thirteen Chihuahuas waiting for him in that stretch limo I saw in the street.
The thought amused her all the way through her rum punch and dumpling nibbles, as she listened to an amazing duo playing and singing popular classics.
It put her in a great mood as she elected to eat in the lounge and not bother with the dining room. It was one of the bonuses of an executive suite and she might as well enjoy it. The room was small and intimate and probably less intimidating to eat in alone.
Not that it bothered Debra overmuch. As ever she had her laptop to write her diary on and catch up with her emails and her eReader with whatever she fancied reading at the ready.
It didn’t stop her taking a surreptitious glance at every new occupant. None were tall, blond and drop dead gorgeous.
Debra put him out of her mind and enjoyed her chicken and rice instead. Combined with a good dry Australian white wine and rounded off by fruit, she felt nicely full but not stuffed. After declining a liqueur or coffee, Debra took herself back to her suite. It had been a long day.
It became even longer. So sure that she’d be tired and want an early night, Debra clambered into bed before ten and turned the light off by half past. To lie awake with her mind buzzing.
Half an hour later, she accepted that sleep wasn’t on her agenda any time soon and got out of bed and slipped on her sundress. She’d take herself up to the garden and spend a few minutes looking at the city by night. Maybe some fresh air and a circuit of the walking path would make her sleepy.
The corridor was quiet and the lift arrived within seconds. Not much more than ten minutes since she’d thrown back the duvet, Debra opened the door to the terrace. The area was dimly lit with just enough light to show where the paths and flowerbeds were.
She took a deep breath to savor the night-scented flowers and the warm air. From the street below, a car honked its horn and engines revved. The clatter of a tram drifted up to where Debra stared over the parapet.
The water of the harbor shone in the moonlight and the lights of the boats twinkled and shared their positions with each other. High above, a plane headed toward the airport and as more often than not, the Peak was shrouded in cloud.
Debra acknowledged that there and then, she was at peace with the world. Maybe it was her earlier climax, maybe it was the thought that she would soon see her family again, but she had a perfect sense of contentment.
She turned toward the pool area and leaned on the gate to look over into the water.
The gate opened and nearly deposited her knees first on the floor. Either the lock was faulty, or someone hadn’t turned the key, because it stated in the hotel information booklet that the pool was locked from dusk to dawn.
Tonight it wasn’t.
Debra bit her lip and considered her options. On the one hand it should be locked and she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. On the other, it was hot and sticky, the humidity seemed to have descended with dusk and she hadn’t kicked over the traces since the belly dancing and… She shut that thought off.
Sod it, I always said I wanted to swim at midnight. Actually she’d said from a beach at midnight, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and it was a perfect opportunity. Debra looked down at her sundress. She wasn’t subjecting it to chlorine, but her underwear maybe. Before she had time to change her mind she pulled the dress over her head, flung it on a nearby chair, kicked off her flip-flops and dove in.
Into water as soft as silk and as warm as a perfect bath.
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About the Author
A multi-published author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
Email: [email protected]
Raven loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
Also by Raven McAllan
Hong Kong Heat
Diomhair: Secrets Shared
Diomhair: Secrets Uncovered
Diomhair: Secrets Remembered
Diomhair: Secrets Dispatched
Totally Bound Publishing
Taken Identity Page 16
