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I draw out a long breath, emboldened and powered by how well the night has gone so far. “Do you want to stay? We can get separate rooms, but maybe we could both do with a break from the house. There’s a spa here. Treat yourself to a massage.”

She tosses the idea around in her head, searching for a polite way to say no.

Which is why her reply stuns me. “Why not.”

THIRTY

TALIA

“We’re fully booked. This is our last room.”

I blink at the hotel receptionist, hoping he can pick up what my fluttering eyelashes are putting down. Blink. Blink, blink. Blink.

Translation: I can’t share a hotel room with my husband or I’ll jump his bones.

Tate’s arm presses against mine as we both lean on the counter. “You say it’s a twin?”

As if separate beds will stop my raging hormones.

“Yes. Two queens. We’re happy to throw breakfast in for free.”

Tate’s gaze drags to mine, throwing the ball in my court. If I say no, I’m a coward. If I say yes, I’m a harlot. I toss the ball back at him. “It’s your call.”

“No, I insist,” he volleys.

“I reject your insistence.”

“Ladies’ choice.” He winks at the receptionist. “Am I right?”

“Ugh.” I slap a palm to the marble worktop. “Fine. One room. Separate beds. Free breakfast. And late checkout.”

“Am I delirious, or is there only one bed in here?” My gaze whips around the large hotel room, as if a second bed is going to materialize out of thin air. Smack bang in the middle sits a king-size bed, with plush cushions and ivory bedsheets. It looks comfortable. Too bad I can’t sleep in it.

Tate doesn’t reply as he saunters into the bathroom with a whistle.

“We don’t even have a change of clothes or our toothbrushes. What about your⁠—”

He pulls out a packet of pills from the inside of his jacket.

“That’s very presumptuous of you.” I fold my arms.

He chuckles. “Easy, tiger. I knew we’d be out late, and I didn’t want to miss taking my medication. If anything, you should praise me for my forward thinking. There are also robes.” He points at the terrycloth bathrobes hanging in the wardrobe. “And travel toothbrushes under the sink. We’ll survive the night.”

Speak for yourself.

“I’m going to get a shower.” And with that, he shuts the door.

Why is he so calm? This was not on the agenda. I’m an attorney, for Pete’s sake. Yet whenever I’m around Tate, I bend like overcooked noodles. I literally stand up in courtrooms, arguing my client’s cases without even breaking a sweat.

What am I supposed to sleep in? I only have a thong and pasties on underneath my dress.

Kicking off my heels, I stretch my toes into the carpet. The bed taunts me, shrinking in size, and suddenly it doesn’t seem so big. There’s no way. We can’t.

I have to put a stop to this.

I swing into the bathroom and stop dead.

Under the spray of water, is my fully naked, fully erect husband, half facing away from me, with his fist working up and down his cock.