He leant back, his arms still encircling her. “I am so pleased you came with me to London, and that you refused my offer of your own suite.” It was a polite way to refer to the fact that they’d not only shared a room, but a bed. Chloe’s mouth quirked at the memory of everything they’d done in that bed.
“Now, if you get hungry, order what you like from room service. And there’s a spa here, if you’d like to get a treatment, or something. Just charge it to the room. I should be back in time to take you to lunch before we go to Winter Wonderland. You’re still keen on that, yes?” His inquisitive half-frown was incredibly sexy.
“Definitely. All things Christmassy, remember? And I’ll be fine on my own. I’m going to take the longest, hottest, bubbliest bath in the history of the world and just chill out here ’til you get back.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes! Now go, or you’ll be late, and they’ll write nasty things about how much of a diva you are.”
He laughed and gave her another quick kiss. She was tempted to turn it into a much longer kiss, and maybe something more illicit, more of what had taken up most of last night, but she really didn’t want him to be late. She waved him off from the door of the suite and shut it quietly behind him. “God, he’s just so …” she said aloud, followed by a guttural “grrr”.
Basking in the first moments of solitude she’d had in what seemed like forever, she practically skipped to the bathroom where she turned on the water to fill the giant bath. “Who knew I’d come to think of hot water as a luxury,” she murmured. While the tub was filling, she foraged around her toiletries bag for a sheet mask and some hair treatment.
She slid out of the fluffy bathrobe, hung it on a hook, then wet her hair in the shower with the handheld nozzle. In front of the mirror, she slathered on the thick, creamy hair treatment, then from the selection of Four Seasons bath salts, chose the cinnamon-scented one and sprinkled it liberally into the bath. It was nearly ready.
She tore open the foil of the face mask, unpeeled it, and pressed it onto her face. “If you could see me now, Archer …” She giggled at her reflection, knowing that there was no way in the world he was ever going to see her looking like that.
The bath was three-quarters full, and she turned off the tap before stepping in carefully and stretching out along its length. The water came up right under her chin and, with a satisfied groan, she let her arms bob gently in the fragrant water as the water sluiced through her fingers. She closed her eyes, slipping into a luxurious doze.
“Who the hell are you?” shouted a brash American female voice.
Chloe’s eyes flew open, her battle to sit upright in the deep and slippery tub causing a tsunami of bath water to cascade over the edge onto the floor. It took a moment for her to realise where the voice had come from and when she looked behind her at the bathroom door, she was more surprised than when she’d opened Cecily’s front door to Archer.
Madison Strumpet was in her hotel room.
What the actual fuck?
In the few moments Chloe hesitated while she struggled to comprehend what was happening, Madison strode into the bathroom and stood tub-side glaring down at Chloe. “I said, who are you? Besides the skank he was kissing in those photos.”
Ouch. It had been easy enough to forget about her likeness being splashed across the internet when it was just her and Archer, but Madison’s words were like a slap. And not only was Chloe naked, her head was slathered in in goop and she was wearing a flaccid hockey mask. She may have felt amazing only moments before, but she knew she looked a sight. Madison, however, looked every bit of the million dollars she earned per movie, and just like the girlfriend of the world’s biggest film star.
Still, Chloe was the Chloe Sims, event manager extraordinaire, recently bedded by Archer Tate, and not going to be intimidated by this interloping cow. Mega-bitch activated, Chloe peeled off the face mask, planted her feet firmly on the bottom of the bathtub and stood. She was pleased to discover that standing in the tub, she was slightly taller than Madison. She looked down at Archer’s ex and, with as much authority as she could muster in her naked state, growled, “Hand me a towel.”
Madison blinked twice and, mouth agape, looked about for a towel. She seemed on autopilot when she lifted a large, fluffy bath sheet from the railing and handed it to Chloe, averting her eyes from Chloe’s nakedness.
“Now give me a moment,” Chloe commanded.
Still seemingly dumbstruck, Madison acquiesced and, mumbling an apology, left the bathroom. Chloe’s heart was thumping so fast, she took a steadying breath. Activating her mega-bitch mode always came with a jolt of adrenalin, and she’d need to calm down if she was going to handle this situation with any kind of composure.
She dried off and wrapped herself in the bathrobe, all the while trying to determine her next move. With a towel, she removed as much of the hair treatment as she could, then scooped her shoulder-length bob into a hair clip at the back of her head. She splashed water on her face to remove the sticky residue of the face mask and looked at herself in the mirror.
She would have preferred to be fully dressed and made up before dealing with Madison Bloody Strumpet, but she knew that would be pushing it. It was time to face the ex.
She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, then walked
