Page 33 of The Man Upstairs

I was still in there when a knock came at the bathroom door. I almost leapt out of my skin as Julian’s voice sounded out, loud enough to hear over the water.

“I bought a spare toothbrush, just in case you needed one. It’s in the drawer under the sink.”

What else could I say, other than a meek littlethank you?I couldn’t exactly wrench the door off its hinges and pull him into my arms with frantic kisses of gratitude.

Or could I?

Maybe other girls would do…

I got out of the shower as quickly as I could, glad to use the new toothbrush. I was dressed, looking at least semi human again when I found Julian in the kitchen. He was watching me as I carried on towelling my hair dry.

“How did you know I like coconut?” I asked, and he looked over at me with a smirk.

“Your hair usually smells of coconut. It was an easy choice.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I love coconut.”

“Excellent. My choices were warranted.”

I kept towelling my hair. “What scents do you like? For yourself?”

“Maybe you’ll find out someday, if I buy myself some cologne.”

“Are you going to?”

He flicked the kettle on. There were already two mugs on the counter.

“I don’t feel quite so warranted in providing for myself as I do for other people.” He put teabags in the mugs.

“You don’t smell bad at all,” I told him, but he laughed as he poured the boiling water.

“I’m well aware that I smell of cigarette smoke, Rosie. It isn’t something most people find all that… enticing.”

Enticing.I wondered if he meant his choice of word.

“I don’t mind it,” I said. “I like the way you smell.”

“Let’s see if you maintain that if and when you have the scent of cologne to compare it with. I think you may be surprised by the difference.”

He spooned me two sugars.

I don’t think I’d ever smelt cologne on someone before. I was used to cigarette smoke and mainstream deodorant. No big deal.

I finished towelling my hair as he splashed the milk into our drinks.

“Where shall I put this?” I asked, with the towel in my hands.

He shrugged. “That depends on if you’re planning on using it again. If you are, then feel free to drape it to dry. If not, please put it into the washing machine.”

I hung it straight over the door, without a second’s pause. His words struck me. How could they not? If I was planning on using it again, then he expected me here… and if he expected me here, then I’d be around him… and if I was around him and what he’d meant at the door that night was true, then…

“You look lost in thought,” he said, handing me my tea. He leant back against the counter, his bright green eyes on mine as he carried on talking. “You needn’t be worried. I meant what I said. You are safe here, and you’re not on your own as you battle your predicament. Not any longer.”

That wasn’t where my mind was at, though. It was on him, and the way his tie fell, and the unkempt salt and pepper of his hair. His perfect-toothed smile, and his natural calmness, even in these circumstances. And then my mind whirred through some more, at lightning speed. Through the things I’d stumbled across in his wardrobe drawer, and the heat between my thighs, all my fantasies spinning in me. I couldn’t fight it, and I didn’t want to. My senses were running insane.

Almost all of my life I’d been a shrinking violet, too scared of pushing boundaries to get what I wanted, but another look into Julian’s gorgeous green eyes that morning had me desperate. For once I needed to pluck up the courage to be daring. To be risqué. To be… sexy.

I’d heard about it a thousand times over, from book heroines. I’d seen it in Mum, in person. The way she’d smile and flutter her eyes. The way she’d position herself for Scottie, as a promise of what lay ahead in the bedroom. So, I tried to emulate it. Kind of. I bit my lip, trying not to look awkward as hell as I twisted my body to the side. I hoped my tight, white work top would show off my tits. What little I had of them. Shame he couldn’t see the lace of my bra underneath…