The room that Gideon led me to was something of a gentleman’s sitting room. Wood-panelled, it was dark and smoky with fragrant cigar haze and…oddly intimate. Lined with bookcases filled with leather-bound tomes, two dark wingback armchairs sat in front of the blazing fire.
The billiards table was set up, halfway through an abandoned game. Clearly, someone had been here before us.
The two wine glasses – one imprinted with red lipstick – sat on a side table next to the armchairs only confirmed my suspicions.
Leaning against the pool table, I watched Gideon set about pouring us two glasses of brandy. I couldn’t help but admire the lean lines of his body, the way his narrow hips flared into his shoulders. He filled his navy-blue suit to perfection, a lock of sandy hair falling across
