While Grant was in the shower, Paris looked around at the rest of the apartment until he found the other bathroom. Everything he saw was pricey. One wall was a balcony that overlooked Central Park. The furniture was the heavy, expensive kind. Paintings by the masters hung on the walls, and the bed even had a canopy. This was the kind of place he would expect a man like Grant Damont to be living in. Rich, plush, and expensive.
As he stood in the middle of all this wealth, he closed his eyes, and an image from the night before sprang up in his mind. It was the image of Grant standing in a shadow watching him. His silver-gray eyes were luminous, his hair, streaked brown and gold, sparkled in the lights of the city. He was so damned handsome any man would want him. He had a quiet, self-assure
