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“Hi, good morning, Alice,” she said cheerfully, but not without a frown on her face. Why did it seem later than she thought?
“May I pour you some coffee?”
Oh, god, coffee.
“Thank you, Alice.” She took a life-awakening sip and then another.
“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Reid.”
“Oh, please. Kensley. Just call me Kensley,” she said, as she put the cup down and started to get her phone, slipping the damning Polaroid into her purse at the same time.
What the heck? She had never in all her life overslept. She rose like clockwork at 6 a.m. every morning and got to work before 8 a.m. It was already 8:30 a.m.
Marcy had sent her a bunch of messages, but her phone only had 6% battery life left and her charger was at work. She quickly texted Marcy to say she was on her way to the office and would talk to her then.
She had to get going, which meant wrestling herself back into Marcy’s dress, getting a cab, going home, showering, dressing, and going to work—and still being exponentially late.
But she couldn’t stop her gaze from roaming around the room. His bedroom was everything she expected. Obviously richly furnished, strong, and masculine, but the only evidence he occupied this room was left in the lingering scent of his cologne.
“Your things arrived this morning, but I didn’t want to wake you when I started unpacking them for you,” Alice said as she slipped out into the passageway, wheeled in a rack of clothes, then three more.
When did this happen? How had he orchestrated everything so quickly? After helping Alice bring her stuff in, she realized her entire wardrobe, including shoes and accessories, was now in Hunter McLeod’s bedroom.
“If there's anything we missed or something else you need, please let me know and we'll have it brought over immediately. And don’t worry about your plants. They were also brought over, and I promise I will take good care of them.”
“Thank you, Alice. I could have done this myself, after work today.”
“Of course not. I am here to help you in any way I can. Should I have breakfast sent to the room or would you prefer to sit down?”
Sit down? Her bottom reminded her otherwise for now. Besides, she wasn’t going to have time for breakfast. “No, thank you. I'm good with this coffee,” she said and took another sip, knowing she would need to fly to the shower and into her clothes in record time.
“I'll leave you to it. But please, if you need anything at all, just dial zero.”
Gosh, this was more like a hotel room with room service than a house.
How was she going to do this for twenty-nine more days?
