Hanging On by Michele Zurlo

Author:Michele Zurlo [Zurlo, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Erotic, Adult
ISBN: 9781606017975
Publisher: Siren Publishing
Published: 2010-08-31T12:00:00+00:00

141

“Have you had lunch? Or breakfast? It’s after two, but you seem to sleep late on Sundays.”

Drew had been the cause of her sleeplessness both times she had slept excessively late on a Sunday. Heat rose to her cheeks. “I had breakfast before I came. You won’t have to worry about me passing out from hunger.

I’m up to the physical exertion.”

His chuckle was a low rumble in his throat. “In that case…” He gestured to the set of stairs on the left. The light pressure of his hand at her back guided her through the wide hallways.

The master suite was larger than her entire house. Double doors opened to an elegant sitting room decorated with accents of strong blues and browns. She had never thought those two colors were very compatible, but they worked here, giving the room a classic, yet homey feel.

At the far end, another set of French doors opened to a wide balcony, where it looked like he had a hot tub. Across the room, a third set of French doors, flung open to invite further inquiry, opened to the actual bedroom part of the suite. The blue-and-brown theme continued into that room.

Sophia stopped in the doorway, her eyes fastened on the king-sized bed.

The comforter, patterned with blue and cream blocks, was folded clumsily across the bed. It looked more as if he’d tossed it aside during the night than purposely placed there. The sheets were rumpled from use.

Her gaze swept the room. From what she had seen, the rest of the house was tidy and clean. This room, where he must spend a significant amount of time, was messy. Clothes were strewn everywhere, some on the furniture, some on the floor. The vast size saved it from being a complete disaster.

“My housekeeper doesn’t come in until tomorrow,” he said by way of explanation. There was no note of apology in his voice.

“You can’t pick up your clothes or make your bed?” She meant it as teasing, but she was locked in a sense of overwhelmed incredulity at the opulence of his house.

“My kitchen is immaculate,” he said. “If I clean my room, she’d be out of a job.”

There was more to cleaning a house than picking up clothes or making a bed. “She doesn’t complain?”

He laughed and reached for Sophia. “She has a boss who is almost never here. I cook for her when I am home and leave leftovers for her when I’m 142

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