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Without drawing attention to himself, Dominic slipped past, back through the curtain to where his files were waiting.
Perhaps he had hired the right woman, after all.
CHAPTER THREE
IT TOOK FAITH a moment to remember where she was when she woke up the next morning. Smooth white cotton sheets, rain battering the window, the glow of a reading lamp she obviously hadn’t managed to turn off before she passed out the night before. Definitely not the flat she’d shared with Antonio and, given the rain, probably not even Rome.
No, Faith knew that rain. Knew that cold splatter and relentless fall.
She was in England. London.
Exactly where she shouldn’t be, ever again.
Faith buried her head deeper into the pillow, as if she could block out the grey and the rain and the sheer London-ness of it all. She hadn’t had a choice, she reminded herself. She’d made the best decision she could in a difficult situation.
But she couldn’t help but wonder about all the people she’d left behind when she ditched the city she loved the first time. Were they still there? What would she do if she saw one of them on the street? Turn and walk the other way, or brazen it out?
She guessed she wouldn’t know unless it happened.
Hopefully it wouldn’t. In and out, that was the key. Do the job, take the money and run.
So, back to the job. And her employer.
Dominic had chosen the most expensive of the airport hotels once they’d landed in Heathrow, which hadn’t really surprised her at that point. To be honest, she could have slept in a chair in the terminal, she was so tired. But the blissfully soft pillows and firm mattress of the hotel room were a definite improvement.
Reluctantly pushing herself up into a seated position, shoulders resting against the headboard, she tried to wake up enough to get a handle on the day ahead. Dominic had said the Americans were arriving around eleven, and it was only eight-thirty. So she had plenty of time to shower, dress...wait. What was she going to wear? She had her uniforms from the Roman Holiday Tour Company, she had her going-out-for-dinner dress and she had some jeans and plain T-shirts. She hadn’t exactly packed for corporate events when she’d left Rome. She’d packed for an overnight in London and then another tour.
It would have to be the uniforms, she supposed, for now at least. Maybe she could ask Dominic about an advance on her wages, or even a clothing allowance. Given the disapproving look he’d given her outfit in the bar the night before, she suspected he might be amenable.
A knock on the door dragged her thoughts away from her wardrobe and onto her growling stomach. Was that room service? Had she remembered to leave the breakfast card out the night before? She really hoped so. She was useless without a decent meal in the morning.
Swinging her legs out of bed, she glanced down at her rather skimpy red nightgown—a present from Antonio, of course. He never did have any concept of subtle. Still, she supposed that room service had probably seen much worse.
Except, when she yanked open the door with a smile, it wasn’t room service.
Dominic’s eyes travelled down over her body at an offensively quick speed. Any other man, Faith knew, would have lingered over her curves, outlined in red silk. Any other man would have enjoyed the view of her bare legs.
Her new employer, however, merely catalogued her attire and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Do you always open your door dressed like a lingerie model?’
Faith felt the heat flush to her face. ‘I thought you were room service with breakfast.’
‘I’m afraid if you want breakfast you’ll have to get dressed. Assuming you have something more suitable to wear...’ His eyes flicked over her shoulder to where her skirt and blouse from the day before lay draped over a chair. Faith winced when she noticed the pale pink lace bra lying on top of them.
‘Actually, that was something I wanted to talk to you about...’
Dominic glanced at his watch. ‘No time. Get dressed and we’ll talk over coffee, before we head over to arrivals.’
‘I thought your clients didn’t get in until eleven?’ Faith asked, confused.
‘They don’t.’ Dominic was already walking away down the corridor. ‘But you need a briefing before they arrive.’
He turned a corner and was gone. Apparently busy executives didn’t have time to finish conversations properly. Or tell people where to meet them when they were decently dressed.
An elderly couple appeared at the end of the corridor and Faith realised, a little belatedly, that she was standing in the open in her really inappropriate nightie. Stepping back inside her room, she shut the door firmly behind her and headed for the shower.
Time to prove to Lord Dominic Beresford that she was capable of doing any job he needed doing, whatever she was wearing.
