Читать книгу The Heat of the Night - Amy Andrews - Страница 12

FIVE

Claudia barely slept a wink. It was as if Luke had tripped some switch in her brain and a hundred different possibilities for what the Tropicana could be had bombarded her. And frankly it was a relief to think about something other than the way Luke’s hand had felt on her breast. The way his boardies had clung to him in the pool.

The way his thigh had sizzled against hers.

By the time morning rocked around, her head was buzzing. And she needed to share! Avery and Jonah weren’t on her radar—she’d walked in on them too many times to know that spontaneous bursts of shared creativity were off the table.

But the one man who had inspired them was just through a connecting door and he was in there alone.

She rose at six, climbed into her uniform—the skirt for a change—and made copious notes. When she was all spent she took to the floor, pacing it until the clock ticked over to seven—a perfectly reasonable hour. After that, all propriety was off. She rapped once on the door before pushing it open, knowing in her gut that Luke wouldn’t have locked it.

The room was like a black hole when she pressed inside but that didn’t deter her. It was only eight in the evening in the UK—still a perfectly decent hour. She marched over to the curtains from familiarity alone and yanked them back with a harsh squeal along the railing. Another impossibly sunny day greeted her and was surprisingly buoying.