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“Miss Rachel is in her suite. Down the hall and just to your left,” the woman answered without blinking.
Because he looked the part. He spoke with confidence. And as a result, no one questioned whether or not he belonged.
He nodded once and continued on down where the woman had indicated.
He hadn’t been going to come. But he was glad he had.
* * *
She’d never prayed so hard for her period to come in all her life. She’d never prayed for it to come. She’d taken it for granted. The cramps, the teariness. It had started when she was fifteen and it had gone on, regularly, for all the time since. Just a little signifier that it was the middle of the month. Nothing more.
Well, not right now.
Now the absence of it was about to send her into a panic attack. She’d been walking around her bedroom in her bra and panties for the past twenty minutes, a tampon on the nightstand, right next to an unopened pregnancy test.
Neither had been used at this point. One month since her night with Alex. One month of alternating between cursing his name and lying in a dark room just staring at the ceiling, unable to cry because tears were a release she wouldn’t allow herself. A rush of emotion, too uncontrolled for the likes of her.
And then her period hadn’t come. Even after it had passed fashionably late, she’d still been praying the floodgates might open and forth would come the crimson tide, and that the pregnancy test could remain unopened. But no such luck.
Tampon or test. She was going to be opening one of them in the next few minutes.
And it was rapidly becoming clear which.
She was already six days late. This little song and dance between her and those two items had been going on since the first morning.
She finally reached down and grabbed the pregnancy test.
And suddenly the world just sort of tipped to the side and she saw herself clearly, standing there, almost ready to marry another man while she was potentially pregnant with Alex’s baby.
And she knew there was no way she could get married today.
Her hands started shaking, her throat going dry. Oh...Jax, please forgive me.
So now she was just going to have to...tell him. Right before the wedding. But there was something she had to do first.
“Okay,” she said to the little white-and-pink box. “Let’s do this.”
Her bedroom door swung open and she whirled around, clutching the box to her breasts in an instinctive attempt at modesty. Until she realized she was advertising that she was holding a pregnancy test and whipped it behind her back, her thigh crossing over the front of her other thigh in an attempt to hide that she was in very brief panties.
Then she froze, because she realized who her intruder was. For almost a full second, she was frozen, caught by those arresting blue eyes. Again.
It was almost like all that thinking about him had just...conjured him here. But at the worst possible moment.
His hair was shorter. His body wrapped in a custom-made suit and not in those thin, faded work clothes she’d first seen him in.
How strange to think it was the other Alex that had been a disguise, while this was the real him. It hardly seemed possible.
