ONE
Vida
I pushthe laundry cart down the luxurious corridor, stopping outside of room 721. Using the edge of my universal key card, I tap lightly on the heavy cream door.
“Housekeeping.”
Tucking the card back into the pocket of my uniform, I rub the stiffness from my neck and wait for a response or any indication that the occupant is still inside the room. There isn’t one. And honestly, thereshouldn’tbe anyone inside. It’s a gorgeous July day outside on the coast of Massachusetts, the waves lapping gently against the cliffs, the gulls calling to one another gently. All the trust fund kids who arrived today are at a welcome soiree on the beach, sipping the resort’s signature cordials and soaking in the sunshine.
Technically, I’m not employed as a housekeeper for Reserve, the Northeast’s premier beach resort designed for the upper class, but I have been filling in for my aunt a lot. Her arthritis iscausing her to come home in too much physical pain lately, so I stepped in and took over.
What is she going to do in the fall when I start my freshman year at Dartmouth?
Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I proceed to gather the towels I need off the cart. My mind is still on my aunt, however. Peggy raised me from the age of ten, and she’s worked around the clock to support us both, through bad times and good. I probably wouldn’t even have applied to colleges if she hadn’t insisted. Can I really leave her when the time comes? Who is going to cover her shifts when she’s weakened with pain?
Setting aside the worry for later, I let myself into the room with an armful of towels.
I’m brought up short when I find the curtains are drawn, leaving the room dark. Most of the new arrivals dropped off their luggage and went straight to the beach. Warily, I turn on the lamp to my right, which is perched on a modern, oak desk with gold hardware. My eyes widen a little at the size of the room that is revealed. Is this the presidential suite? I don’t think I’ve ever cleaned a room this large. This isn’t even the bedroom. It’s merely the seating area.
“Hello?” I call, wetting my lips. “Housekeeping.”
Silence.
No water running.
“Just leave the towels and go, Vida,” I whisper, advancing toward the hallway, the sounds of the ocean growing louder as I draw closer to the bedroom. Based on the orientation of the room, the sleeping quarters must overlook the Atlantic. How incredible it must be to wake up in such a room. Why would anyone want to keep the sunlight out?
Reminding myself that rich kid behavior is none of my business and I’m just here to clean, I step soundlessly into the bedroom and gasp, barely able to keep my jaw off the floor.
It’s extraordinary.
Modern in whites and creams and golds, the curtains billow gently behind the mostly closed windows. As if someone didn’t want the light, but they wanted the sound of waves. A finger of discomfort creeps up my spine at the feeling that someone is either in the room or only recently departed. The maids are supposed to operate without being seen or heard. We’re the unseen facilitators of comfort, not meant to be underfoot. Ever.
If I were to jeopardize Peggy’s position at the resort, I’d never forgive myself.
No one is here. Calm down.
Taking a deep breath, I sidestep toward the bathroom and lower the heavy, carved gold handle, pushing inside?—
A man stands at the double sink, his hands planted on the alabaster marble, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. His head is bowed forward, giant noise-canceling headphones covering his ears—and the music must be blasting, because I can hear the bass from five feet away. No wonder he didn’t hear me calling.
I’m frozen in indecision. Run? Make myself known and apologize?
Oh God.What do I do?
Trapped by uncertainty, I can’t help but notice the man I’ve just intruded on is…Something to behold. To call him a work of art would be an understatement.
He’s easily six foot four, generously muscled. His hands and bare feet arehuge.Tension tightens the cords and sinew of his broad shoulders and triceps. Even without seeing his face, I can deduce that he belongs in a grand room such as this. It’s a room fit for a lord or a king. A god among men. That’s exactly what he is. But gods come armed with wrath, and that means I need to get my butt out of here. Unseen.
Embracing my flight instinct, I back up a step?—
His head lifts. Whips around.
I’m pinned by a pair of turbulent blue eyes.
My breath jams in my lungs and I drop the towels.
I’ve never seen more attractive features in my life. Not even in the movies.
