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Chapter 4
She must have fallen asleep at the table because the next thing she perceived was his strong arms enveloping her and lifting her from the chair, and she was so tired and exhausted that she couldn't even feel fear. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her arms coming around his neck on their own accord, and she already slipped back into sleep, surrounded by his scent.
He carried her to the bed, putting her down gently, and she could have sworn she felt his fingers on her skin as he brushed her hair from her forehead, and a second later a whisper of his lips, but she couldn't open her eyes, couldn't make sure if it wasn't all a figment of her imagination.
-/-
When she woke up the next morning, she needed a few seconds to come back to her senses and realize where she was. The sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor made her bolt upright but relax almost instantly as her eyes fell on him.
"I brought you breakfast."
She stumbled out of bed and sat down at the table, still wary about what he wanted from her, still waiting for his demands. But he was eating quietly, just sending her a look from time to time, accompanied by a smile, and she relaxed slowly.
She poured herself a second cup of coffee as he cleared his throat, and she looked up at him, her body going rigid, expecting the worst.
"Okay, here is the deal," he said softly, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her scrutinizingly. "I have a lot of business to conduct, and people tend to be more relaxed if we do keep business to a minimum at the evenings. I want to hire you."
"You mean as an escort?" she asked, her stomach clenching as her mind immediately conjured up pictures about what he was implying. "But you said ..."
"Not like this," he told her quickly. "No sexual favors. I'm just asking you to accompany me to those dinners, and maybe get my mind of the business from time to time by doing something solely for fun."
"And what do you have in mind when you think of fun?" she asked cautiously, not believing in the deal he was offering her, fearing the loopholes that might be there.
"Gambling, laser tag, just enjoying the strip. Stargazing in the desert. These sort of things." He smiled at her, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "I have a demanding job, and you would do me a huge favor if you stay here for a while."
"For how long exactly?"
"Until the end of the year, if that's possible. I'll cover all your expenses, and pay you five hundred dollars a week," he stated, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. "So what do you say? Deal?"
It would be enough. Enough to pay her mother's stay in the care facility, and she looked up into his blue eyes, hesitating only for a moment before taking a leap of faith. "Deal."
-/-
He was a man. He shouldn't enjoy going shopping with her but he did, picking out dresses for her to try on, insisting on paying for them since they were part of the deal.
"I need you to look nice," he told her, winking at her, and she smiled back at him, his teasing lacking any sexual undercurrent and she appreciated that.
She wanted to draw a line at the jewelry, but he just wouldn't take no for an answer, telling her the dresses needed certain jewelry to shine, and she was too weak to stay strong when her eyes fell on all the blinking stones in front of her.
The first time she accompanied him to one of his business dinners she was nervous, expecting his business partners to make hidden comments about her profession and treating her like the whore they would think she was. But she was pleasantly surprised when nothing along those lines happened.
Her heart was even beating faster the first time she came out of the bathroom, all dressed up, and Robin's mouth dropped open when he saw her. He had himself under control a second later, but she still noticed the glances he threw her from time to time during the evening, a warmth surging through her when his appreciating eyes raked over her.
-/-
At night she was accompanying him to his dinners, but during the days they were having the fun he had promised her. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so carefree, the last time she had laughed so much.
She had asked him if he could make the time to be that lazy, and he had just thrown her one of his trademark smiles - the smiles that kept doing weird things to her stomach - telling her he was the boss and he could have as much free time as he wanted.
He showed her the strip in all his glory. The shows, the gambling. Taught her how to play poker and blackjack. Showed her the probably illegal tricks to win at cards - because counting cards could not be tolerated - but he was Robin Locksley, the boss, and the croupiers just looked the other way.
She was trying to catch her breath after a battle of laser tag, laughing like a maniac when he jumped out behind a wall and hit her square in the chest. He had scared the living daylights out of her, and her heart was still pounding fast in her chest when she smiled at him, his grin tugging at something deep inside of her, something she thought had died a long time ago.
-/-
The times he did have to leave her alone she strolled through the hotel. He had told her she could investigate on her own, that no doors would be closed for her, and she took full advantage of that freedom.
One day she appeared in the kitchen and the chef just looked at her with a frown for a second - apparently knowing who she was - and turned around to keep working, barking his orders through the kitchen and screaming at his sous chefs.
She loved being in the kitchen, loved watching all the links coming together and creating meals that probably cost a fortune. She was sitting down in a corner, careful to not disturb anyone and just watched for hours.
Until the chef one day came up to her and hauled her to her feet, pushing a chopping board and some peppers into her direction and ordering one of his sous chefs to teach her how to cut them into pieces, because if she wanted to keep coming down here she might as well help with the work.
She wouldn't have thought that working in a kitchen and getting yelled at by a chef would help heal her wounds. But it did.
-/-
She was wondering where he was taking her. He told her they were going to dinner, insisting on her not changing out of her sweat pants, and just taking her to a private elevator; an elevator which brought them right down into the main kitchen.
"Sit down," he said softly, pushing her down on a chair in front of a small table, decorated with a candle and a small bouquet of flowers. "First course will be up in a minute."
Her mouth almost dropped open as she saw him slipping behind the steel counter and reaching for a whisk, stirring in a blubbering pot on the stove, a mouthwatering smell hitting her nostrils.
"Peas soup with garlic bread."
The soup tasted fantastic and she almost groaned when her mouth closed around the first spoon. The bread was fluffy and the garlic butter was having the exact right flavor, her taste buds singing in delight.
The other courses were as good as the first, the wines he offered her being a perfect match to the food, and when he served the dessert - Crème brûlée with the perfect caramel crust - she almost licked out the bowl afterwards.
He grinned at her, clearly satisfied with his performance in the kitchen and all she could think was …
Damn! He can cook.
-/-
They were lying on the hood of his car, staring up in the sky, and he was pointing out constellations to her, telling her stories about each and one of those constellations.
The night air around them was a little chilly and she shuddered slightly. He noticed it immediately - of course - and reached over her, pulling the blanket over her body, and she could just stare up at him, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she waited for him to meet her eyes.
And when he did, her heat stuttered and her breath hitched in her throat.
They were only inches apart, his breath brushing over her skin, his fingers tightening around hers, but he didn't move.
But she did.
She closed the gap and pressed her lips on his. It was supposed to be a soft peck, over in a second, but then he opened his mouth under hers and let out a soft sigh, his tongue tangling with hers, and she couldn't pull away anymore. Her hands slipped around his neck, her fingers digging into his skin as if she wanted to keep him close, wanted to keep him from pulling away, and he groaned, pressing his body against hers, his hand closing around her waist as he shifted atop of her.
He was so near, and she expected that her body and mind would push him away any second, but nothing in his caresses was demanding, nothing felt like a threat. His kiss was soft and gentle, his body a weight she hardly felt, and she tightened her grip around him, her hips rocking up into him on their own accord.
But then he was suddenly gone, her body throbbing with need as he stumbled off the hood and stood in front of her, raking his hands through his hair.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse with emotions. "That shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."
"Robin?" Her voice was shaky when she addressed him, but not out of fear, but out of passion and she pushed herself up on her elbows. "I wanted to kiss you and I think you wanted it too."
"Yes," he replied softly, his voice barely audible. "I wanted to kiss you."
"Come back up here." She patted the hood beside her, shooting him a small grin. "I'm not finished with stargazing yet."
"You aren't?" he asked, his mouth tilting up into a lopsided grin as he stepped up to the car again, and climbed on the hood.
"No," she whispered, scooting closer. "And I need a cushion."
"A cushion?"
"Yes," Regina said, grabbing his arm and holding it up to slip under it. She laid her head on his chest and snuggled closer against his side, mumbling softly, "A cushion."
She felt his arm coming around her, his fingers brushing over the naked skin of her forearm and she closed her eyes, relaxing further into him. Their arrangement would be over in about four weeks and she would never see him again.
This had started with her trying to escape reality just for a few months, but now she wondered if this fantasy world hadn't become reality.
She didn't want it to end. She didn't want to leave him.
