ｃｈｒｙｓｓｉｅ

ａｓｈ

The wind was unpleasantly cold against Chryssie's cheeks, making them turn a wretched pink that didn't flatter her at all. She knew that the awful colour would soon take over her entire face if she wasn't careful. Looking up at the grey clouds above, it seemed that the weather would only get worse.

"Can we go back inside?"

Grayson looked up from his place by the poolside, where he had been reading a book. He was seemingly immune to the weather. "Of course, love. Are you done already?"

"I think so," she mumbled, already dreading having to get out, knowing that it would be absolutely frigid. Snowflakes stuck to the slick, expensive marble tiles around the intricately carved beach chairs.

It was more frivolous than she could even imagine a hotel could be. Even one made for the rich and famous, which it undoubtedly was. She could have sworn that she had seen a famous actress exiting the room across the hall from them.

When they had arrived a few hours ago, she could barely believe what she was seeing. But then again, Grayson had always had an appreciation for the finer things in life.

She started to swim over to the edge, her fingers gripping the cold metal handrail.

"You're cold," Grayson observed from the sideline as she started to climb up, seeming to notice the way her teeth were chattering. "That's understandable, I suppose. Here, don't bother using that, I don't want you slipping and hurting yourself."

He padded over and extended a hand. She took it carefully, letting him help her out. A towel was wrapped around her shoulders, but that didn't do anything to lessen the bite of the icy air.

"I didn't realise that it would be freezing out there," she said as he led her back inside.

"Do you want to go into the sauna, then?"

"Erm... sure," she murmured cautiously, peeking around him to see that it was empty. Probably because there was no one stupid enough to go swimming when it was ten degrees outside.

The warmth of the wood against her feet immediately soothed her as she stepped inside. Taking a seat, she sat her towel out neatly underneath her, then pressed one over her lap.

"We can go swimming again when it's warmer," Grayson said, sitting down beside her. "In the meantime, Kingston is coming over at five."

"Is he?" she asked.

Grayson nodded. "I have business to attend to."

"I hope that it isn't of the murderous sort," she replied softly, adjusting her towel again.

He laughed, a musical sort of sound that was as haunting as it was beautiful. "We'll see."

~

Grayson watched his Chryssie move around the room. She had found his shirt in her bag, thought that it was one of the oversized ones that she had bought for herself, and had put it on as a sort of dress.

She had had to roll up the sleeves a million times, and it hung off her skinny frame in a way that should have been baggy and unflattering.  Yet, somehow, she managed to make it look utterly irresistible as she unpacked her bags, folding her clothes carefully and putting them in the expensive-looking wardrobe standing in the corner.