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Tomorrow, she planned to see the changing of guards at Buckingham. She wished she could have a side-trip to Scotland, but even six days suddenly felt like it wasn’t enough for London alone. It had started to rain and she realized she didn’t bring along an umbrella.
She stayed under the marquee of some tea shop as she headed back for Rosewood. The temperature dropped quickly, but Mikaela felt lucky she had packed along a waterproof windbreaker. It wouldn’t help much with the cold, but at least it would keep most of her clothing dry. As soon as the rain died down, she briskly walked back to the hotel.
By the time she had gotten back, her teeth were chattering from her soaked jeans. She didn’t want to step inside the hotel looking like an orphaned waif, but the warmth won over her.
“Madam, are you all right?” someone from concierge asked her.
“I wore the wrong clothes,” she laughed while her lips turned pale.
She realized her phone was ringing. The moment she held it, the call ended. There were four missed calls from Justin. Oh no, she thought. She shoved her phone into her backpack and quickly headed for her room. She stripped out of her wet clothes and wrapped herself up in a bathrobe. Just as she was about to press Justin’s name for a return call, he called again.
“Where the bloody hell are you?” his irritated voice greeted her.
“I’m back at the hotel. I had to wait for the rain to stop,” she stammered. She felt like a little child, caught in some petty crime. Why was she feeling like this? He was not the boss of her!
“I had wanted to have you picked up, wherever you were.”
He was going to ask some of his people to pick her up? Why not do it himself? She suddenly wanted to feel important in his life.
“I was just walking around.”
“And you must be bloody soaked,” he said.
“A little,” she told him.
“Great, because I’m right outside of your door.”
“What?” she gasped.
He knocked and she peered through the eyehole to find him right outside, dressed in a suit. She gingerly opened the door. He strode in calmly.
“A little?” he smirked. “It looks like the whole of England rained on you.”
“So I lied.”
“I don’t like it when you lie to me.”
“It wasn’t your concern.”
“How can I demand things from you if you’re unwell?” he snapped.
She was taken aback. “I’m on vacation. I was walking around. It so happens that it rains. I’ve got my windbreaker, I’ve got boots, so I’m not soaked like the whole of England rained on me.”
“You sound defensive,” he remarked.
“What’s the point of this?” she retorted. “You allow me to go here, to have my first real vacation in years, and outside of the country too, and then you make me feel bad.”
“To remind you that the contract stays active wherever you are. Now, get out of that bathrobe. I only have an hour to be here.”
She stayed rooted in place, and she found herself stripping out of her warm, fuzzy, cotton bathrobe just seconds after he had demanded it.
***
She watched him as he put on his boxers first, then his pants and his unbuttoned shirt. “Where are you off to later?” he asked apathetically.
“I don’t have any idea yet,” she admitted, bringing the bed sheets closer to her body. Her nipples were still erect from the cold and the mind-blowing sex she had just had with him. There were so many firsts for this day alone.
It was the first time she enjoyed a British-style breakfast. Her first meal near the river Thames. It was the first time she had had sex in a five-star hotel. The first time she had sex on international soil. She eyed his rigid stomach and wondered why she dreaded the contract sometimes. He was dreamy, he was everything she didn’t know she wanted until the day she met him.
