Taylor squinted at him sleepily. “Can I what?”
“Make me breakfast? I’m famished.” He gave her his most appealing smile.
She rubbed a hand over her eyes and then peered at an alarm clock shaped like one of the Star Wars characters. “It’s five in the morning. Are you shitting me? Who wakes up this early?”
“You should wake up early if you intend to run.”
“I’m not running anywhere other than back to dreamland.” She flopped back down in the bed and pulled a pillow over her head.
Loch frowned to himself. “Do you not exercise?” Didn’t everyone? How else would she keep physical for polo matches and the like? Then he remembered—she didn’t play polo. Ah. He sat down on the end of the bed, pulling one of her small feet into his lap, mostly because he liked touching her. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Sleep for another four hours, then catch up on work,” she mumbled at him.
That didn’t sound like it meshed with his plans at all. “What about me?”
She sat up again, rubbing her eyes. “Loch, I don’t mean to be a jerk, but what about you? I thought this was a one-night stand with no strings attached?”
“It is.”
Her brows drew together and she yawned. “Then what do you want?”
He gave her his most winning smile. “Breakfast?”
She made a pained sound but slid to the side of the bed. That was a start at least. He was less encouraged when she padded—naked—to one of the tiny cabinets near her stove, pulled out a box, and held it out to him.
“What’s that?”
“Cereal. Don’t eat all the marshmallows.” She waited for him to take the box and then shuffled toward her bathroom.
Cereal? He didn’t recall having it before. Quaint. Normally his breakfasts were toast, eggs, orange juice, and various meats depending on the country he was in. A bowl of dry, sweet marshmallows was odd, but he was in America now, after all. He ate a handful of the cereal, avoiding the marshmallows as she started the shower.
A moment later, a muffled scream erupted, and he winced as the water immediately went off again and she emerged out of the bathroom a moment later. “You used all the hot water?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t realize there was so little. You should really fix that.”
She stared at him, her hair dripping. “I live in an apartment building with hundreds of other people. I don’t get a say in how much hot water there is.”
“Ah.” He ate another bite of cereal and then shrugged. “Since you’re awake, shall we go jogging?”
Taylor wiped a wet lock of hair from her face, hugging a towel to her body. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty to look at, or I’d kill you right about now.”
He grinned. “I suspect you’re not a morning person.”
She bared her teeth at him. “And you want me to jog?”
Loch shrugged. “I always jog in the morning. It’s refreshing.” He set down the box of cereal because it was rather tasteless and didn’t strike him as particularly filling. “Speaking of, we should get going.”
“I’m trying really hard not to frown at you. How can a man as cute as you are be so obnoxious in the morning? Now I see why you’re single.”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed. “All right, I guess you don’t have to go jogging with me.”
“Now you’re talking sense.” She dropped the towel and started to crawl back into bed.
It was hard not to admire the sexy figure she painted as she moved on all fours back into the bed. He contemplated joining her, but he suspected she was just going to sleep, and he was wide-awake. A night of really good sex always invigorated him. He rubbed his neck, considering. “You go back to sleep, then, and I’ll go jogging.”
She gave him a sleepy thumbs-up.
“Where would I find jogging clothes?”
One eye cracked open. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“How is it you don’t know where jogging clothes would be?”
He shrugged. “I open my closet and there they are.”
“Who . . . who fills your closet?”
“My valet?”
“Where’s he?”
“Back home. His wife was expecting a child and he couldn’t join me on my trip.” Plus, he didn’t know how long he’d be in the United States, and it’d have been unfair to him to keep the man away from his family for so long.
“For a hot guy, you are weirdly helpless. I have a couple of guy shirts but no pants, sorry. You’ll have to go back to your place for that.”
“Mmm.” The thought of going back to his empty hotel room was extremely unappealing. It felt a lot like exile—he was alone, bored, and strangely forgotten. It wasn’t a good feeling, especially for him. He’d spent all his life adored and celebrated by family and friends, and the locals in Bellissime loved him. He was always surrounded by people.
Being alone? It felt a bit like torture.
Taylor rubbed her eyes. “I guess you could go buy some jogging clothes. There’s a store around the corner, though I don’t know if it’s open this early. How much do you want to spend?”
He shrugged. “I don’t normally purchase my own clothes. What would you recommend?”
She snorted. “That you stop letting other people control your life?”
“They’re helping me.”
“If you say so.” She gave her pillows one last sad look, then slid to the edge of the bed. “I’ll go with you to grab breakfast if you want, but no jogging.”