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“This is your room,” he says, letting go of my hand to open the door.

My suitcase is already inside, neatly hoisted onto a table. The room is grand and beautiful. I walk over to the window and the view is breathtaking. As far as the eye can see green grass and stately old trees. Right underneath the window is the rose garden Babushka talked about. It is in full bloom and quite a sight. I must take photos to show my mother.

“You have a private bathroom. It’s the door on the left. The one on the right is a connecting door leading to my room. I trust that you won’t be tempted to sneak into mine in the middle of the night.”

He’s laughing as he says it and I haughtily deny I’ll be doing any such thing, but I think we both know I want him. The temptation is there. I certainly won’t be acting on it though. That much is for sure.

“I’ll let you get unpacked and freshen up, then,” he says formally. “Meet me back here at half-past seven.”

“Okay.”

He turns to reach for the door knob.

“Alex?” I say.

He turns back to me.

“I don’t think your cousins like me very much.”

He grimaces. “I wouldn’t worry about it. They don’t like anyone very much. Not even each other. But don’t worry about them. My aunt liked you, I could see it in her eyes. And she’s the only person who matters to me.”

I smile and nod, and he steps out of my room. The thoughts of Petra and Anastasia instantly vanish as I whirl around to take in my room without his distracting presence. It is huge, at least twice the size of my bedroom back home and I have a big bedroom. In the center of it stands a marvelous four poster bed. The bedding is all pristine white with gorgeously intricate antique lace. White netting cascades down from the posts. It’s a bed fit for a fairy princess. As a child, this is exactly the kind of scenario I imagined Sleeping Beauty lying in when the Prince came to kiss her awake.

At either side of the bed are stunning blue bedside cabinets. Against one wall there is a large white double wardrobe and a matching chest of drawers with a large oval mirror on top of it. Both are elaborately and painstakingly carved. The walls are a cool white, almost with a tinge of blue, and the hardwood flooring is softened by what I imagine must be a Persian rug. It covers most of the room. Three doors lead off the room. The one to the right leads to Alex’s room, and I resolutely give that one a wide berth, as though even getting too close to it will tempt me to head in there.

I open the first door on the left and find a massive bathroom. A free standing, claw footed bathtub takes center stage. In one corner is a large walk-in shower next to a wide sink. The toilet is tucked behind a small, waist high wall. That little quirky touch makes the bathroom seem at once foreign and prudish and I smile to myself as I step back out of the room and move to the other door.

Expecting some sort of walk-in wardrobe, I’m pleasantly surprised to see a gorgeous surprisingly modern lounge. A white leather sofa that looks soft and comfortable sits against the wall opposite a huge, wall mounted flat screen TV. The wall opposite the door is completely lined with shelves, half of which are taken up by books and the other half, by DVDs and CDs. I’m sure I could live in this room for a year and not get through all of these movies and books. There is a sturdy platform ladder with wheels tucked into one corner of the room, presumably to get at the books on the higher shelves.

I glance at my watch. The last thing I want is to be late for dinner. It’s early still and I decide to unpack and take a shower. I want to save the bath for when I have time to really savor a good soak in it.

I unpack quickly and find the wardrobe packed out with coat hangers. In the chest of drawers, I find a hairdryer. Better and better. After a refreshing shower, I come back into the bedroom dressed in a fluffy bathrobe and dry my hair in front of the oval mirror. It is old and the silver behind the glass has tarnished over time. It reminds me of the one in my grandma’s bedroom. Afterwards, I apply my make-up and then comes the hard part. What do I wear? Judging by the fact that the staff are in uniform, it should be safe to assume it won’t be a normal family dinner where people rock up in jeans and a t-shirt.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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