Charlotte Phillips - Your Room or Mine?:

Oliver Forbes emerged from the steam room and stood under the shower. She watched as the water cascaded over his body, knowing she shouldn’t be staring but unable to tear her eyes away. Joe hadn’t been keen on exercise beyond playing a bit of football with his mates. What might it feel like to be with someone that fit? He grabbed a towel from a row of hooks, then skirted the pool and headed towards her.

‘You mind?’ he indicated the lounger next to her. There was a roomful of them to choose from and he wanted that one? Her heart gave a tiny skip.

She shrugged and he sat down, rubbing his hair with a corner of the towel.

‘Drink?’ he asked, reaching for the phone on the table between loungers.

She looked up at him. A drink? A flurry of excited butterflies zipped briefly through her stomach before common sense bashed them into submission. A drink did not mean he was hitting on her, and even if he was she couldn’t be less interested. Someone like him would never look twice at her, he was obviously just being polite.

Her own package deal danced through her mind. Outside its remit, you were practically charged for drawing breath in this place. Why not take him up on the drink, it meant nothing.

‘I’d love coffee,’ she said.

He gave the order over the phone and sat back.

‘I can’t remember the last time I went swimming,’ she said, pulling her own towel a little closer around her.

‘You don’t belong to a gym?’

That meant he did, presumably. Who was she kidding, of course he did. You didn’t get abs like that from sitting around watching TV. He clearly put in a lot of work.

She shook her head.

‘My working hours are long,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I’m so tired by the time I get home the last thing I’d want to do is more exercise.’

‘I thought your job was more about potting plants,’ he said, a grin touching his lips. ‘I didn’t realise it could be so physically demanding.’

She raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s not standing with a basket picking flowers,’ she said. ‘There’s a lot of heavy work involved. You have to be prepared to get your hands dirty.’

He reached across suddenly and paused, hand outstretched.

‘May I?’

She stared. What exactly was he playing at?

She watched in surprise as he took one of her hands in his, no impulse kicked in to pull it away despite the sudden hot feeling in her stomach. He uncurled her fingers to see the palm and turned her hand to see her fingernails.

‘This doesn’t look like the hand of a heavyweight gardener,’ he said.

She took her hand away and held both of them up.

‘Yeah well, it’s amazing what a bit of hand cream can do. Sometimes at the end of a working day they look like shovels.’

‘So gym, spa treatments and swimming is a welcome break then. Is this something you do often?’

Because she really looked like a gym bunny. Not.

‘Not often. I’m treating myself.’

‘And you prefer to do that alone?’

Her self-consciousness about staying here alone resurfaced and she squashed it back down.

‘It wasn’t supposed to be a solitary thing,’ she said.

‘No?’

For a moment she considered fobbing him off, but she was used to being the subject of gossip now. Why bother making up some story for someone she didn’t know and didn’t care about?

‘I booked the room for a romantic night away with my boyfriend.’ She looked him boldly in the eye. Nothing to be embarrassed about. ‘This hotel offers themed breaks – dinner, spa, breakfast, one price and it’s all included. Ex-boyfriend now,’ she added, pasting on an I-couldn’t-care-less smile, to prove she was absolutely fine with that.

‘You came alone on your own romantic night away?’ He sounded amused. ‘You didn’t cancel?’

She couldn’t blame him. It did sound a bit insane spoken out loud. She squared her shoulders.

‘It seemed a shame to waste it,’ she said. ‘It was a non-refundable payment. So I figured I’d turn it into a Reinvention Break instead.’

She mumbled the last part and he leaned in close enough for her to see the tiny droplets of water that still clung to his skin and hair. A light frown touched his eyebrows.

‘Reinvention? Of what?’

She looked straight at him. He was a total stranger, what the hell did she care what he thought?

‘Of me,’ she said.

Oliver leaned back in his lounger as their coffee arrived, watching her, all obstinate bravado protesting that she didn’t care.

‘Odd choice of word, ‘reinvention’’, he said, when the waiter had gone. ‘Implies that you need to change. Which in turn implies that you’re somehow responsible for whatever went wrong.’

‘I’m not!’ she snapped.

He looked at her over his coffee cup.

‘Call it something else then. Not reinvention. I haven’t seen anything about you yet that I’d change.’

As he heard her light intake of breath and saw a touch of blush rise high on her cheekbones, he wondered when she’d last received a compliment . Long-term complacent relationship? A breeding ground for lack of appreciation. All he had to do was take advantage of that.

There was something very appealing about her at close quarters. Put aside for a moment the fact that she was pretty, albeit in a dishevelled outdoorsy sort of way. There was an air of defiance about her that he liked. Whatever the ex-boyfriend had done, she wasn’t sitting at home crying into her pillow was she? She’d kicked him into touch and had turned her romantic break into a treat. He couldn’t help but admire that fighting spirit.

‘How about I call it my Freedom Break instead then,’ she said. ‘Shopping and spa relaxation. Just what I need.’

‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘And tonight?’

He held her gaze intently with his own. She didn’t drop her eyes. Encouraging.

‘A luxury meal in the restaurant,’ she said.

‘Alone?’

‘I’m quite happy with my own company.’

‘Understandable.’ He paused, then added in another compliment. ‘I like it too.’ He paused to gauge the effect and when she smiled softly he zoomed in.

‘How about having dinner with me? The place is full of couples. We can keep each other company.’

There was a sudden loud clatter as she dropped her cup into the saucer from a height and then tried to cover up her mistake by fiddling with the spoon. He watched, enjoying putting her on edge.

‘Don’t you have some kind of other plans?’ she said, not looking up, furiously stirring the remains of her coffee.

He leaned back against the lounger and took a sip of his own drink.

‘Nope. Dinner alone for me too. And I’d much prefer your company to my own.’ He waited and then added in extra encouragement . ‘It would be my treat of course.’ He paused. ‘Unless you want some time alone to – you know – get over things.’

That finally seemed to galvanise her into action. The implication that she was here to lick her wounds, that she might spend the evening crying into her pillow and enjoying the martyrdom of sitting alone in the sumptuous restaurant among the loved-up couples.

She put her coffee cup down on the table, no clatter this time, and sat back taking in the surroundings. A pause this long was not a good sign. Win some, lose some . Not that he ever lost out on a dinner date, or more, when he put his mind to it. For some reason the thought of missing out on this one brought a disappointed stab in his chest. Must be the thought of being stuck here overnight with no entertainment when he should be settling into his newly-finished luxury pad.

Then she looked at him, a tiny smile playing about her full lips, and his heart turned over softly.