Free Chambers of Desire: Opus 1 by Sophie Moreau

any suggestions?”
    For once, Oliver seemed to warm up a little. “How about the best swimwear designer in the city? Pesca Boutique is la crème de la crème.” Well, I should have realized the man loved to shop.
    “Sounds lovely.”
    He nodded and threw the car into third, roaring down the busy street. Within ten minutes, we were zipping into a small parking spot in front of a trendy store. Reaching in his wallet, he pulled out a black American Express card. “Have at it.”
    “Aren’t you coming in?” I asked, thinking we might have a chance to bond over Gucci swimsuits.
    “I have a phone call to make,” he answered. “I’ll be waiting right here. Take your time.”
     
    ***
     
    I was in heaven, roaming through the racks of tiny bikini tops and even tinier bikini bottoms. “May I start a fitting room for you, ma’am?” a salesclerk offered, taking the small pile of swimwear I’d already accumulated.
    “Yes, please,” I answered, giving her a grateful smile. “I have no idea how I’ll choose just one.”
    “Then, don’t,” she said winking. “Treat yourself to a whole collection!”
    When I walked out of the store, I had four new swimsuits in my bag. Du Cheval said Calvin trained in the pool daily; I needed more than one option.
    Any goodwill I had built with Du Cheval before entering the store seemed to have waned.  I had tried to hurry, but I could tell by the look on Du Cheval’s face that I’d kept him waiting too long. He ignored me for the rest of the ride, focused on his phone calls, setting up Calvin’s schedule for the following week. Oh, well, Du Cheval didn’t have to like me. The only person whose opinion I valued at this point was Calvin.
     
    ***
     
    When we arrived at the estate—no less impressive than it had been the day before—Du Cheval accompanied me inside, guiding me to the indoor pool.
    “You can change in there,” he said, motioning to a door next to the entrance of the pool. “When you’re done, join Mr. Chambers in the pool.”
    I ripped the tags off one of my new swimsuits and tied it on quickly. It was perfect, skimpy yet flattering.  The bandeau top provided just enough coverage, while the string bikini style bottoms showed off my slim hips.
    Padding out of the changing room, I pushed through the large door leading to the pool. Du Cheval hadn’t been exaggerating with his Olympic-sized description—it was enormous, spanning almost the entire length of the room. Just as he’d described, a clear-glass ceiling covered the roof, filling the space with light. Sunrays bounced off the sparkling water, warming the room to a perfect temperature.
    Perched on the edge of the pool was Calvin—his wet, dark hair pushed back out of his face as he adjusted a pair of goggles, droplets of water glittering on his broad chest. , “Sabrina,” he said to me as I approached. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the fogged glass goggles, and I wondered whether he was noticing my nearly naked body. I wished I had grabbed a robe from the locker. Just go with it, I thought. Be confident!
    “This is some pool you’ve got,” I said, looking around the room.
    “Welcome. Sit down; relax. I have only a few laps left,” he said, nodding his head toward a cluster of lounge chairs at the head of the pool. “I’m almost done with this set of drills. They’re short but intense.”
    I watched him stand and shake the excess water from his skin, preparing for a dive. His body was in pristine condition, toned and defined. As he stood, his muscles flexed, showing off his muscular legs and chiseled abs. I swallowed hard, taking it all in. I meant to sit down as he instructed, but I was rooted to the ceramic floor, woozy from his bronzed skin.
    Instead of diving into the pool, he changed direction and moved toward me.  Somehow he was even more overwhelming than yesterday… Maybe the lack of clothes … Sabrina, get it together! I thought. . When he neared, he brushed his lips against my