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“It is my pleasure,” I assured her. I walked over to her and lifted her chin with my finger, making her meet my gaze. “Anything you need, I’m down the hall.”
Before I could chicken out, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
When I pulled away again, Hannah was smiling up at me.
“Good night, Hannah,” I whispered, stepping away before I forgot myself completely and claimed her lips in a moment of weakness.
“Good night, Hez,” she answered.
I walked out and closed the door behind myself, leaning against the wall for a moment as I let out a long, slow breath.
God, she was incredible. And while I knew that I was going to have to help her recover or replace her things…I couldn’t help thinking about ways I might be able to stall that in order to get extra time with her.
Chapter Five
~Hannah~
I woke the next morning to sun streaming through the gauzy curtains of my room and for just a moment, I forgot the nightmare of the evening before, and I smiled.
The bed was toasty warm, I felt as if I’d slept better than I had in forever, and I was waking up in Germany.
But then it all crashed down around me. I wasn’t justinGermany, I was stranded in Germany with no passport, no money and mooching off the kindness of a handsome stranger.
I desperately wanted to believe that Hez was just a good guy. But what kind of man seriously brought home a woman he’d just met and offered her tea and a gorgeous room and…those kinds of things didn’t happen.
And why was his English so damned good? He was clearly German. His house had been in his family for eons. And the people at the market certainly knew him.
Something was rotten in Hamburg, and I was going to get to the bottom of it…right after I found some clothes and some more stollen. Cause damn…Frankenmuth had nothing on authentic German sweet bread.
I climbed out of bed and rifled through the dresser, finding a pair of leggings and a tunic sweater in my size, along with under garments. As I stared at the clothes in my hand, I couldn’t help wondering why the hell he had an assortment of women’s clothes at the ready.
Did he often bring home strange women and give them their own room? Had I stumbled into some weirdFifty Shades of Greyscenario?
I tossed the clothes onto the bed and opened the bedside drawer, picking up the phone and dialing the number Hez had given me the night before.
“Good morning,” he said brightly, answering on the first ring as if he’d been waiting for my call.
“Get in here,” I barked before slamming the phone back into the cradle.
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the door, wanting my angry face to be the first thing he saw when he entered.
But after five minutes of waiting, I finally had to relax my arms and I sat on the edge of the bed, drumming my fingers on the mattress as I waited impatiently for him to show up.
Finally, another five minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door and Hez entered, one hand balancing a tray as he stepped inside.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, walking over and putting the tray onto the table next to the bed.
“What is that?” I asked, staring down at the plates full of pastry as well as an assortment of beverages.
“Breakfast,” he answered, his tone implying that it should have been obvious.
“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” I asked, getting to my feet and regaining my annoyed stance. “What is all this?”
“Well, those are bear claws,” he said, pointedly ignoring my attitude as he motioned toward the food. “And there’s stollen with quince jam. Mini quiches. And I wasn’t sure what you’d like to drink so I have tea, coffee and a bottle of water. If you prefer juice, I can run and get you some.”
“Stop!” I said, reaching out and placing my hands on his chest. “Just stop. This is crazy.”
“What’s crazy?” he asked, raising any eyebrow but not moving to remove my hands from him.
