HE REACHES FOR HIS GLASS of wine, and doesn’t say a word.

“Do you like me, Eli?” I ask. “I mean, I know you like me, but are you attracted to me at all? I know I might be different in the flesh. I’m not skinny, I’m not young… I’m just—”

“No, Gabriella. Don’t think I’m not attracted to you. God, you’re… it’s just this situation,” he says, trying to make me understand. “I just don’t want to be the one who ruins your perfect little family, I don’t want to be the ‘other man’. I’m not a homewrecker, Gabriella.”

“So, it’s the fact that I’m married that bothers you?”

He shrugs and swirls his glass, holding it delicately by the stem. I study his beautiful hands, and his long fingers — every inch of this man is divine. “I just don’t want to be in the middle.”

“Don’t you understand,” I start. He needs to get a clearer picture. “We need you, Eli. Both John and I. If I don’t have an adventure with you, I’ll always be resentful of his affair. I’ll never get over it.”

He sets down his glass of wine, and draws a long breath. “So, you’re using me. What is this, revenge sex?”

“Well,” I say. “Isn’t that every man’s ultimate fantasy… sex without strings?”

He’s quiet and can’t quite look at me. He stares down at his plate, and I want to see those eyes again. Damn, even his lashes are gorgeous. Why is he making this so complicated? Just fuck me and enjoy it already.

“I’m not a sex without strings kind of guy,” he tells me.

“C’mon, every guy is a sex without strings kind of guy.”

“Not me,” he insists.

Seriously?! “We’re not doing anything wrong,” I scoff. “This isn’t adultery. My husband and I have an arrangement,” I remind him. “One week.”

“Yes, one week,” he deadpans. “That’s the problem.”

“Sorry, I can’t give you more.”

He stands, and clears his plate. “Can I take yours?” he asks. He walks over to the kitchen and rinses the plates without a word.

Of all the men I could have chosen to have my ‘little adventure’, I had to pick the only guy on the planet who’s not into casual sex.

I stare into the distance, at all the colorful art on the walls. I think we’re both feeling vulnerable, and I’m so tired. I help him clear the rest of the table.

“I’ve got this,” he says. “Why don’t you go to bed? You look tired.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you,” I say, my words drenched with sarcasm.

He smiles. “You could have a bath if you like,” he suggests. “I know how you like your baths.”

It’s funny how we’re practically strangers, yet he knows so much about me. Yes, that vintage claw foot tub did look heavenly. “Thank you so much,” I say. “For dinner… for everything.” He might not be giving me what I want, but he’s been the perfect host.

There are plush towels and a cozy bathrobe all ready for me in the washroom — this feels like a five star hotel, and it’s all free. Not always advised, but sometimes it pays off to talk to strangers on the Internet. This is all too good to be true — maybe he’s planning to murder me in my sleep, and make some strange avant-garde art with my nails and bones.

I shed my clothes, and set them on the antique stool by the bath. The room is chilly, but the water is just right. There’s a chrome shelf hanging over the end of the bath, and it has everything I need; shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, weird brands I’ve never seen before. Everything about this place is a little different, and that’s what I love about it.

I sigh as I sink into the warm water. It’s been such a long day and I’m so tired. I stare up at the shower curtain rail; an oval above me. The beige shower curtain wraps all around the bath, but I leave it open. I haven’t locked the door. I like the idea that Eli could walk in any minute and see me naked in the bath — it turns me on. I’m aroused and I’m not kind to myself when I imagine myself in bed with Eli. I want to touch myself, but I don’t have the guts. I want to make myself feel good, but it feels too awkward, here in this strange bathroom, when he’s not far away. Seriously, the man is torturing me. If I had balls, they’d be blue.

I fall asleep and when I wake, the water is cold. I hurry out, and towel myself dry. I wrap myself in the cozy bathrobe he left hanging on the door.

Eli is making himself a plate of food; pickles, crackers and deli meats. How could he still be hungry? He’s wearing sexy plaid lounge pants. My mouth waters at the sight of his tall lean frame. His feet and his torso are bare. And… well, let’s just say that his feet are huge, and his abs are defined, not a six-pack but nice. I get a better look at his tattoos; an angel over his shoulder, and amazing Celtic designs trailing down his left arm and pec. Why is he doing this to me?

He turns to me with a smile. “That was quite a long bath.”

“Yeah, it was nice… I fell asleep.” I attempt a sexy expression, hoping it says: I’m naked under this robe, but it’s probably useless.

He stares at me for a beat. “You want some?”

I shake my head. “No, actually… I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Oh okay, well, the room is all ready for you. I’ve got all my stuff here already,” he says and smiles. Sure enough, there’s a pile of bedding next to the sofa. He closes the distance between us, leans into me, and presses his lips on my cheek briefly. “Goodnight,” he whispers.

What a tease.

“Goodnight,” I say and head to his bedroom, giddy.

I brush my teeth, and put on my black silk nightie — it seems like a bit of a waste, but it feels good on my skin. The sun has already set and it’s dark enough to sleep.

I check my phone. There are three messages.

I smile at the sight of her words — she’s so nosy.

The second message is from Emma.

My heart warms, and I wonder what she’s doing right at this moment. It’s just past ten o’clock here — four o’clock her time. She’s back from school, probably doing her homework, or watching her favorite show on her iPad.

It’s hard because I’ve never been away from my kids, but I remind myself that it’s just a week.

Finally, I read the messages from John, and my stomach drops.

I’m suddenly filled with anger — it comes on so fast, it takes me for a loop. How dare he? He’s trying to manipulate me, trying to make me feel guilty. I know this must be hard for him. I know this is crazy. But so was his affair.

I slam the phone down on the night table, and let out a long sigh.

My heart is still pounding when I sink into the soft bedding. It feels like I’m sleeping on a cloud, and in no time, my pulse slows, and my thoughts drift. This might possibly be the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. I slide my hands over the curve of my hips, across the warm flesh of my stomach, and imagine that they are Eli’s hands. I fall quickly into slumber thinking about him.

I wake in a fright. For a fraction of a second, a brief image flashes before my eyes, an avant-garde sculpture of me; all bones and red nails.

“Gabriella,” he whispers.

I spring up like a jack-in-the box. “What?! What is it?” The man must be trying to give me a heart attack.

“It’s me,” he says quietly. “It’s Eli.” His voice comes closer, and I can see the shadows of his body. It’s so dark, I can’t quite see all of him. He leans over me, and his words are jagged when he says, “I can’t sleep.”

I wrap my arm around his warm torso and pull him in. He smells so delicious, and despite the thick duvet separating us, the warm heavy weight of his body pressing on mine feels so amazing.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he says, his words so quiet, I almost don’t hear them.

“Kiss me,” I say, thinking that if he doesn’t kiss me, I might just murder him.