Chapter 8Madness. What business did he have, letting Jack glimpse the truth? The kitchen was bad enough, but his bedroom?
Still holding Jack’s hand, he unlocked the door and took Jack inside, the bloke’s gaze travelling, head and eyes circling, taking in dark walls—a blended deep grey with an undertone of purple purely Brinley’s invention—with matching textiles. Then the sharply contrasting white coving and skirting boards, the oak furniture, green plants, the room large enough to make the dark tones look more like a masculine cave. Something about the space also screamed of something sensuous, of peace and relaxation. In here, Brinley used fewer sweet scents, selecting more exotic ones. Intoxicating.
Jack required no further seducing. Though calculations and questions sped through his g
