A Golden Betrayal

Throwing caution firmly to the wind, she stripped off her jacket, moving aside one of the thick bath towels to give herself a place to hang it. She unbuttoned her blouse and shimmied out of her skirt. Then she determinedly pulled off her slip and unsnapped the wicked bra.

As she shimmied out of her panties, her gaze caught on something under the vanity counter. A minifridge?

She hung everything up and reached forward, polished fingernails catching on the small fridge clasp. She pulled, easing it open, revealing a row of half-size wine bottles, some imported beer, gin, vodka, scotch and some lovely little bottles of champagne.

Oh, she was definitely worth it.

She quickly located a crystal flute in another cabinet, pulled off the foil and wire from the bottle top and popped out the cork. It flew in the air, landing in the steaming tub, making her smile for the first time in an hour.

Raif, she decided firmly, could darn well wait.

She poured herself a tall glass of champagne, set it on the tile shelf and stepped into the tub, moaning softly as she eased her body down into the scented water.

A knock sounded on the door. “Ann?”

“I’m busy.”

“What’s going on?”

Ann lifted the glass of bubbly champagne and took a sip. Very nice.

“Ann?”

“I’m busy,” she repeated, leaning back.

“Doing what?”

“That is a very rude question.”

“Were you filling the tub?”

“Are you aware there’s a minibar in here?”

Raif was silent for a moment. “I was not.”

“I’m drinking champagne. It’s pretty good. They’ll charge that to the room when you check out, right?” She took another drink.

“I imagine they will.”

“Good.”

“Bring it out here.”

“No.”

“Roark called back.”

Right. Ann wasn’t about to fall for that. “He did not.”

“He says he’ll bring me the statue.”

She took a long drink, settling deeper into the tub, letting the water lap around her neck. “Go away, Raif. You’re holding me here, fine. You’re keeping me from working, fine. But can we at least be honest with each other?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

She wished she’d thought to turn off the light. “That’s when you’re letting me go?”

“That’s when we’re meeting Roark.”

Then she spotted a slider switch on the wall. She stretched up, moving the slider downward. The lights dimmed, then went dark. That was better.

Candlelight flickered against the white-and-gold-tiled wall. The champagne eased its way into her bloodstream. She closed her eyes.

“Ann?”

“I’m ignoring you.”

He went silent again, and she listened for retreating footsteps.

But then his gravelly voice came through the door. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m exhausted.” She was, both physically and mentally. It had been a very long five months. She was actually beginning to hope she did get fired. Like tearing off a Band-Aid. At least then it would all be over.

“You have to come out sometime.”

She knew she would. But not right now. Right now, for just a little while, she was going to hide away from her problems.