“Not until you tell me what the hell you’re doing in my bed,” I said, digging my knee into her back and resting more of my weight on her, earning a soft grunt.
“What you hired me to do, you—you jerk!” She kicked out wildly without managing to make contact. “I’m here for our appointment.”
I questioned my sanity again. Mac had mentioned a cleaning crew coming to wash windows, but I’d never seen cleaners wear unicorn costumes. “What does getting in my bed have to do with cleaning?”
The intruder’s kicking abruptly stopped. “…Is this a riddle?”
“It’s a simple question. How were you planning to wash the windows from my bed?”
Her horn cocked to one side. “I…I wasn’t?”
“Exactly.” The stupid horn had left a trail of glitter on my bed, and I ripped her hood back to reveal a messy blue braid.
Blue.
She turned her head and rested a cheek against the mattress—not seeming the least bit bothered by me pinning her down anymore. I blinked hard, recognizing those big blue eyes and upturned nose.
The red face from thrashing against me was new, though.
“You’re the woman from the front entrance,” I said, letting go of her hood with a frown. “The one who made a scene.”
She winced and heaved in a breath. “Can everyone stop calling that a scene, please? I was perfectly reasonable.”
I hadn’t taken a good look at her outside, but she reminded me of the little fairy statues my grandmother used to keep inher garden. Soft, delicate features framed by colorful hair. Long thick eyelashes brushed against flushed cheeks, and my mind strayed to other reasons I’d have her in a position like this on my bed.
How soft she felt underneath me wasn’t helping.
But she was clearly a raging lunatic, so I shoved those thoughts aside. It was a miracle she’d managed to get past Mac and the staff—and a massive breach of security I’d discuss with my team later.
Maybe Mac had been right about her being the perfect hit man.
That didn’t explain why a hit man would dress like a unicorn, though. “Why are you wearing that?”
“It’s what you requested,” she answered, staying surprisingly calm given the situation—until her eyes narrowed up at me. I got the feeling she was trying to glare, but it lacked any heat. “Why did you hit me? The terms of service clearly state we have a zero-tolerance policy for violence.”
Every word out of her mouth was more absurd than the last.
“You’re mad at me?” My brows rose. “You’re the one who trespassed and climbed into my bed.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Mr. Westbrook, I’m a little confused. If this is an attempt to roleplay, there wasn’t any mention of that in your request.”
“Roleplay?” An actual growl left my throat, making her freeze. This woman was insane. But since she wasn’t fighting back and I could easily overpower her again, I shifted off her back. “Get the hell out of my bed.”
She took her time sitting up and brushing off the front of her costume. When she made a show of rubbing her wrists like a convict who’d been cuffed all night, my impatience grew. I slid off the other side of the bed.
“You know, I’m just trying to do my job,” she said slowly. Half her braid had come loose during the struggle, and she pushed back the wild strands. “The one you’re paying me for.”
Her sidelong, narrow-eyed look impliedIwas the crazy one in this situation, and I bristled. “I didn’t order a whore.”
Her breath hitched. “Excuse me. I’m a professional cuddler.”
I stared, convinced I’d heard wrong. “A what?”
“I don’t know why you’re acting oblivious when you’re the one who hired me.” A crease formed between her brows. “You don’t need to be so self-conscious about it.”
I gritted my teeth. “How exactly do you think I hired you?”
“On the Sunshine Cuddle Services app, of course.”
