“Thank you. It suits my needs.” Paul motioned to the end of the corridor. “I’ll show you to the master bedroom.”
She stiffened instantly. “The master? I thought we agreed—”
“I converted the guest room into an office, so I’ll be sleeping on the couch. You’ll have the master bedroom to yourself,” he hastened to reassure her, though in his gut he felt a slight stabbing pain, as if she’d just rammed a knife into his stomach by reinforcing her condition to keep sex out of their relationship. “The cleaning lady changed the sheets this morning, so it’s all fresh.”
Holly nodded. “Thank you.” It looked as though she wanted to add something, but then she turned away, depriving him of the sight of her beautiful face with those brilliantly blue eyes.
“The last door,” he instructed as he followed her down the short hallway, unable to tear his eyes from her swaying hips. She wore white capri pants that accentuated her shapely ass and her long legs, and reminded him of how he’d taken her for the first time: on her hands and knees with that beautiful ass pointing straight at him.
He wanted to flog himself for his stupidity. At what point had he thought that this arrangement with Holly would work? Sure, she’d do fine pretending to be his girlfriend, but the nights he would have to spend on his own, knowing she was sleeping in the room next to his, would be torture. Even jerking off twice a day wouldn’t help take the edge off. Would three times do the trick? He seriously doubted it.
“I like it,” Holly said as she entered his bedroom. She placed her handbag on the bedside table and deposited her hand luggage next to the bed. Then she turned to him. “But why are we staying in New York? I thought we were doing this for your parents.”
He left the suitcase just inside the door. “We’ll be going there tomorrow. But I figured we need today to get our stories straight. I’ll have to fill you in on details about my life.”
When she raised an eyebrow, he added, “So that my parents realize that we know each other well. I don’t want them to smell a rat. I figured we’d go over everything once you felt rested after your flight.”
“We can start right now, if you want. I feel rested. Believe me, flying first class is restful.”
Surprised, he nodded and motioned to the corridor behind him. “Let’s get comfortable in the living room. Can I get you anything to drink? A glass of wine?”
“I’ll take some water.”
Holly followed him to the kitchen, where he grabbed two small water bottles from the fridge and handed one to her.
“You should really get a water filter. You know how much waste plastic water bottles generate?” she asked.
“Don’t tell me you’re an environmentalist.”
She shrugged. “We all have things that are dear to our hearts.”
“And apart from saving the planet, what are those things for you, Holly?”
She took a gulp of the water. “I thought we were discussing details about your life, not mine.”
Paul walked around the kitchen island and motioned for her to follow him to the living room, where he sat down in the broad armchair, leaving her the couch.
“I have to know more about you too—otherwise, I’ll trip myself up.” He watched as she folded her legs underneath her and made herself comfortable in one corner of the couch.
“The truth about my life isn’t going to help you, as we both know, because I’m sure you don’t want to tell your parents what I do.” She looked straight at him, and suddenly her words felt like a challenge.
“Then tell me what your life would be like if you weren’t an escort. We have to tell my parents something. So what kind of job would you have?”
There was no hesitation when she answered, “I’d be running a matchmaking business.”
His forehead furrowed. Had he heard correctly? “Matchmaking? You mean like Match.com or eHarmony.com?”
“Not exactly. Those are online dating sites. My company will have a much more personal touch. I will meet every client and find out what they’re really looking for and then match them to the person they’re most compatible with. There won’t be any computers involved.”
“And you think something like that has a chance when everybody these days just goes online if they’re looking for a date? Don’t you think it’s a little old-fashioned?”
“There’s nothing old-fashioned about love. Would you really leave choosing your wife up to a computer? Wouldn’t you rather have a live person who understands you and your desires help you with that search?”