Dangerous Love

chapter Eight

A deep silence surrounds me. It is a remarkably calm silence. I slowly open my eyelids and a brilliant light shines above me. The sun's rays filter through as I lie on an extremely comfortable duvet. I carefully turn my gaze to the left and spot a wooden nightstand with a white orchid blooming on it. Behind it stands a Japanese-style bedside lamp. Gray curtains frame the window and my gaze travels further forward, where a massive door spaciously opens up the room. A gray couch catches my attention. Wide glass windows offer a view of Brooklyn. My head turns to the right again and I spot someone lying next to me. Am I dreaming, or is Mr. Stevens actually here? I rub my eyes gently and to my surprise, yes, he is there.

 I lean forward. Oh no, how did I end up in bed with him? My memory lapse—damn, I can hardly remember anything. Except for the dancing. Oh no, and the puking—oh no, Mr. Stevens—oh no, help! I look around again, trying desperately to think clearly. I must be in a hotel room, and with him. My gaze drifts to the right again; he is dressed. I pull up the covers and look—sweatpants and briefs. But where are my sweater and lace shirt? I am wearing a white shirt. Oh my God! My inner self jumps for joy; he has undressed me. No, that can't be! I shake my head. I feel him moving next to me, completely speechless. I lie back down and pretend I'm still asleep. My heart is pounding; he's sure to notice. Oh, what am I going to do? I've never been very good at acting. Count, Paige, count! Yes, that's good: 1, 2, 3 and 4, then I'm just a total failure. Miss Morgan, you can get up. I know you're awake. Oh crap, what am I doing? Now? Just stay calm, Paige, calm down. I slowly open my eyes and look for him.

 Where is he? He was just here! Oh, my head is pounding; maybe I should put the duvet aside and slowly get up. Where the hell is he? He can't have just disappeared. Barefoot, I walk into the adjoining room. On the side is a small table with two chairs and a breathtaking view of all of Brooklyn. Wow, impressive! Paige, concentrate; I creep further; this could be the bathroom - maybe he's taking a shower. Oh no, then he's naked! My insides are in turmoil. Paige, now concentrate! As I'm about to turn around, the bathroom door opens and he's standing half naked in front of me. Oh my God, wow, his impressive body is so close; I'm completely speechless! A tingling sensation runs through my body: "Miss Morgan, how long are you going to stare at me like that?" he asks with his wet body, his damp, black hair falling over his flawless face. He looks simply fantastic. Miss Morgan, I shake my head and look away as he strides elegantly into the bedroom.

 I now stand like half a puppy in front of the still steaming bathroom while he lingers in the bedroom. My head has a life of its own! I lean against the wall for a moment. "Do you have a headache?" he asks. I just nod. "Wait a minute," he calls, standing there almost naked, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Barely two minutes later, there is a knock on the hotel door. Can't he at least put something on? That drives me even madder. "Come here," he says in an urgent voice. With my head bowed, I go to him. "Here," he says and hands me a tablet and a glass of water. "Take this." "What is it?" "A painkiller. Come on, good boy, am I a pet now, or why is he praising me?" "Miss Morgan, would you like to take a shower?" "I'm showering naked here," I blurt out. "Better not." "Are you really sure about that?" His eyes examine me.

 Where is my lace shirt? It was completely covered in vomit. Did you change me? Oh yes! It was anything but pleasant for me, just undressing you like that. "Miss Morgan, please take a shower." Why? Because you threw up, and my assistant must not smell of vomit! His tone became assertive. OK, then I'll just take a shower, for God's sake. The clothes are in the bag next to the sink," he calls after me. Without saying another word, I slip into the shower.

The warm water flows gently over my skin. I am actually standing naked under the same shower he was in recently. My whole body tingles. I grab the white bath towel and wrap it around my wet body. I look in the bag that is next to the sink: jeans, a light top, white silk panties - impressive, and even a new bra and a denim jacket! That's exactly my taste, but where did these things come from? The underwear and the other clothes? I put everything on and it fits perfectly. Where could the hairdryer be? In desperation, I search the room but can't find it. Well, with wet hair then. I open the bathroom door and step out. And what do I see? Mr. Stevens is standing in front of me, immaculately dressed in a dark gray suit.