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I take his offered hand.

“You’re terrible at seduction.”

“Funny. Never had any complaints.”

I glance at him.

He raises an eyebrow.

Something unpleasant twists in my stomach.

Of course he’s been with other women.

It’s been ten years.

I’m not an idiot.

Still, I don’t particularly enjoy imagining it.

Grayson takes my wet coat.

“Guest rooms aren’t finished. You can have my bedroom.”

“And where are you sleeping?”

“Bed.”

I blink.

“Your bed?”

“That’s generally where I sleep.”

“With me?”

He looks at me.

I look at him.

Then his mouth curves.

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s a big bed.”

“How big?”

“Big enough for both of us.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Wasn’t trying to reassure you.”

I follow him upstairs, already regretting every decision that brought me here.

His bedroom is enormous.

Dark wood floors. A stone fireplace. Heavy curtains framing tall windows.

And in the center of the room sits a massive four-poster bed covered in charcoal-gray bedding.