Nice to meet you

Ian and Mariah get to know each other alone in his suite.

We make our way to his room once the doors open. I've suddenly never been in such a big hotel room or suite as this is called. There is a microwave and mini fridge. There's a big living room with a big fireplace and Jacuzzi. He walks straight off to the right. I see two doors. I'm guessing one for the bedroom and bathroom.

            I take my cue and sit on one of the pale green sofas. It's very comfortable and I feel my eyes get heavy. I must not sleep. I don't know this man. I feel my subconscious kick me in the head. What was I doing in this suite? This man could be a heinous lunatic or a rapist. he had me alone in this room. He could kill me and no would know. He could easily tell Sara I refused to come and he went to bed alone. I clutch my purse to me closely. I have a pocket knife inside that I could quickly grab at first sight of danger. I cannot sleep.

            Ian comes back in the room wearing silky grey pajama pants with no shirt. I have to catch my mouth from dropping open. He is especially cut all over. His chest is so perfectly sculpted. I close my eyes to stop myself from thinking what I would like to do it.

            He catches me staring and looks down. He retreats back into his room. He comes back out wearing a sleeveless white shirt. I am partly disappointed and thankful all in one.

            "I'm used to being alone," he says passing me for the mini fridge.

            he pulls out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He didn't even ask me if I wanted anything. He calls the alcohol some fancy name that I'm too tired to comprehend. He pours my glass half full and sits just opposite of me.

            "Why did you agree?" I ask.

            He takes a sip of his drink and sets it down. I swear I can still see every definition of his chest through his shirt. I notice he isn't wearing socks. His feet are beautiful, mine are hideous, must keep shoes and socks on.

            "A friend in need," he cracks a smile.

            "How did you know I wasn't a murdering lunatic?"

            "I done, I'm watching you very closely Ms...." He waited for me to fill in the blank.

            "Ms. York. Mrs. York." I finally enjoy a sip of champagne. I found it very tasteful and take another gulp.

            "The ring," He says and I flash it to him. He doesn't seem bothered by it at all.

            "What do you do Mrs. Mariah York?" He places way too much emphasis on Mrs.

Author's Note

Short...this is all I've written for this chapter so far, sorry. I will write more soon.