Up for Love in London by Willow. Bonaire

cherries, rambutans and guava.
Beside them, two white china plates and cutlery wrapped in crisp
linen napkins. The fridge is stocked with bottled water, both still
and sparkling, and white wine and champagne. A box of hand-made
chocolate truffles sits on the console. I’m overjoyed. Surely these
details demonstrate Charles’ feelings for me.
    There’s also a
large flat screen TV over the gas fireplace. The curtains are open,
perhaps to showcase the spectacular outlook from the top floor.
Though it’s a grey and misty morning, the view to the park is as
splendid as ever.
    I spin around
the room and my exhaustion dissipates. Unpacking my dress is my
first priority – I don’t want it to look wrinkled. Though I have a
fabulous wardrobe, it was hard to select an outfit for tonight.
Charles is so meticulous and so handsome. I almost feel like I
don’t deserve to be seen in public with him.
    I open the
mirrored double closet doors and find my gorgeous red dress on a
hanger. How could I have forgotten his promise of this gift? I’m so
thrilled, I try it on even before showering. It fits like the
proverbial glove and Charles has even added a pair of shoes – nude
heels from LK Bennett, of course. They’re my size – how did he
know? I wish I had remembered to pack a small handbag and I should
have brought a better coat, but my uniform coat will have to do
tonight. It’s a good thing I have a nice pashmina I can wrap around
my shoulders for warmth when we’re out. I hate to even take the
dress off, but I know that the lack of sleep will soon catch up
with me.
    I may as well
wrap his gift now. I examine the pen again. It’s sleek, stylish and
expensive looking, just like Charles. It is too much or not enough?
Jet lag and a need to sleep urges me not to second-guess my choice
and I fold one delicate sheet of indigo and silver origami paper
around it, tack the edges with clear tape and press a small silver
bow on top.
    The bathtub in
the executive suite is deep and I fill it with warm water, pouring
a generous amount of rose-scented bath oil. I turn on the radio,
roll up a thick towel for behind my head and gratefully sink into
the heat and fragrance. The piped-in music reminds me of a serene
spa. I could soak all day but I want to rest for my evening with
Charles.
    Thinking about
him makes my pulse race and I allow myself a little pleasure when I
stand up to rinse off, moving the hand-held shower spray slowly
over my breasts, stomach and between my thighs. I wonder what
tonight will bring, passion for sure but perhaps more than that.
After all, it is Christmas Eve. And he’s chosen to spend it with
me. That says a lot, doesn’t it?
    For a moment, I
let myself think of his family, about whom I know nothing. I didn’t
take Olivia’s advice and Google them. But his parents, siblings and
other relatives surely must enjoy his company at the holiday. I
expect he’ll see them tomorrow, but tonight he’s all mine.
    I slip into a
soft terry robe and the nicest hotel slippers I’ve ever seen. Both
are substantial and elegant, discretely monogrammed with the hotel
crest. I’m feeling relaxed and drowsy. In the bedroom, a single
white rose blooms on the table with a note “See you at six,
Charles.”
    I wish we could
all be together on this special night, me, my family and Charles.
Thinking about the possibility makes me smile. I slip easily into
dreamland and wonder if the solution to jet lag is really as simple
as a posh suite in a five-star hotel.
    CHAPTER 7 ~ His Christmas Secret
    I had set the alarm but I waken
earlier, my internal clock being more reliable. Or perhaps it’s
just the anticipation of seeing Charles again. I’m as excited as a
little kid waiting for Santa. I shower quickly, just to wash my
hair. I’d like to go for a quick walk before we meet – even if it’s
only around the block, to knock the fog from my brain and get some
natural colour into my cheeks.
    After my hair
is dried and flat-ironed, I