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I picked the phone back up. “Actually, don’t worry about it. I’ll sort something out with the guest. Thanks.”
I put it down. Priya was staring at me with her mouth slightly open.
“Did you just turn down a room?”
“I did something impulsive.” I sat back in the chair. “First time. How am I doing?”
“Badly. You’ve got nowhere to sleep.” But she was smiling, slow and pleased, and she patted the bed beside her. “Come here, then. Impulsive man.”
I sat on the edge of the bed. She shuffled closer and leaned against my shoulder, and I could feel the heat of her skin through my shirt. She smelled of soap and gin.
“Here are the rules,” she said. “I’m on holiday. I’m single. I’ve had two gins and I’m not drunk. And I think you’re very handsome in a tired sort of way.” She traced a fingertip along my jaw. “So I’m going to kiss you now, and you’re going to let me decide how far it goes. Deal?”
“Deal.”
She kissed me. Soft, then hungrier. Her hand undid my shirt buttons one by one and slid inside, nails dragging lightly down my chest. The towel slipped and she let it, pressing her bare breasts against me.
Then she pulled back, flushed, eyes bright, and reached for the room service menu on the bedside table.
“I’m also starving,” she said. “Is that unsexy?”