Page 44 of Ethan & Grace

“But . . .”

Her protest died away as I used my key card to unlock the door. It opened onto the hotel’s indoor pool—a grotto-like retreat that seemed a world away from the chill of London. The air was warm and humid, perfect for the tropical plants growing in beds around the room. The walls were stone-clad, and an artificial waterfall, which also served as a filter system, splashed gently at the back of the pool. Even during the day, the lighting here was dim, but at this hour, the only real source of light came from the pool lights, making the water shimmer. The ceiling was inlaid with hundreds of tiny spotlights that imitated the night sky, though they barely gave off any light.

“Wow,” Grace breathed.

I closed the door behind us, and while she looked around in amazement, I began to take off my shoes and socks, followed by my jacket and shirt. I placed my clothes on one of the loungers by the pool, then undid the button on my trousers.

“What are you doing?!” squealed Grace behind me.

I glanced over to where she stood frozen by the pool’s edge, eyes wide. “I’m undressing.”

“I see that,” she said. “But why?”

“To go for a swim. Like I said.”

Grace’s eyes flicked to my boxers before hastily returning to my face. She was clearly making an effort not to stare at the outline of my cock. It was almost funny how hard she tried not to find me attractive. When she’d first started cleaning my flat, I hadn’t noticed. Over time, I’d started catching the furtive glances when she thought I wasn’t looking. But the only reason I’d caught her looking was because I liked looking at Grace myself.

I clearly remembered the day I’d first properly noticed her. It had been almost exactly a year ago. She’d already been working at the hotel, but we’d never crossed paths. I’d had a brutal weekend—too much booze and weed—and my head was pounding worse than ever when, all of a sudden, a hoover started up. It had felt like a drill tearing through my brain.

I’d stormed angrily into the living room wearing nothing but my underwear, ready to give Tanya a piece of my mind—she’d been taking care of my family’s private floor for some time. But the woman in my flat wasn’t Tanya. It was Grace. The first thing she ever heard from me were the insults and accusations I’d hurled at her for doing her job. She’d hated me ever since, and I couldn’t blame her. It hadn’t exactly been my finest moment. Yet instead of backing down, Grace had given me a proper telling-off. Hardly anyone ever dared to put me in my place—probably one of the reasons she’d fascinated me from the start. She was as beautiful as she was self-assured, though I could tell Amy’s death had shaken that confidence.

“We don’t have bathing suits with us,” Grace said, jolting me out of my memories.

“Have you never swum in your underwear?”

“No, because normal people don’t have round-the-clock access to a pool.”

I put my trousers with the rest of my clothes and went to the steps leading into the water. “There’s a first time for everything.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why? Can’t you swim?” I asked, descending into the pleasantly warm water. I loved this pool, especially when I had it to myself. It was long enough to swim laps, and was two metres deep at its deepest point.

“Of course I can swim!” Grace snarled. “Very well, if you must know.”

I looked up at her. “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“So what is it?”

“I’m not wearing any underwear,” she admitted quietly. “At least, not a bra.”

Now it was my turn to keep my eyes from wandering, even though I was pretty sure her thick pink jumper hid everything. “I’m not wearing a bra either.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Who cares? They’re just boobs. I’ve seen plenty before.”

“I’m sure you have.”

“Worried yours won’t measure up?” I asked, teasing.

Grace folded her arms, her gaze sharp as knives. “For your information, I have very nice breasts.”

“Prove it.”

“Nice try, but no.”