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She tucked it into the pocket of her favorite yoga pants and bounded out of the library.
Perhaps it was time to take a quick break and see what Hunter was up to.
***
To her surprise, he wasn’t in the greenhouse. It was empty, the roses blooming in the heavy, warm moisture-laden air. Gretchen turned around and headed to his room, knocking on the door. Not there, either.
She knew he had a gym on the premises, but not where it was. The house was too large for her to spend all day exploring. Frustrated, Gretchen spotted a phone on a table at the far end of the hall and headed for it. She picked up the receiver, and then paused.
She had no idea what Hunter’s phone number was. Actually, she didn’t know all that much about him other than the basics: He was lonely, he was scarred, and she loved to make him blush.
All right then, she’d learn more about him . . . right after she seduced him. Again. It wasn’t her fault, she told herself. The man was just completely seduce-able and utterly delicious. She couldn’t help herself. Even now, her fingers itched to curl into one of those starchy collars on his shirts and rip it open so she could slide a hand inside and touch his hot skin.
Her mouth watered just thinking about it. Gretchen stared at the receiver and sighed. She was going to have to do the inevitable, it seemed. With a sour frown, she hit zero to dial her least favorite person in the world.
Eldon answered on the third ring. Instead of hello, he said, “What are you doing in the north wing?”
“Hello to you, too. I’m looking for Hunter. He’s not in his room and not in the greenhouse. Any idea where he would be?”
“I’m not his keeper.”
She snorted to herself. You think you are. “I know you’re not. Can’t you just tell me where he is?”
“Why?”
“I’m going to go deflower him.” She smiled to herself at the butler’s outraged splutter. “Hey, you asked. Now, seriously, where is he?”
“You’re a vile young woman.”
“Yeah, well, you’re kind of a dick yourself.” When he spluttered again, she sighed. “Look, Eldon, I just want to spend some time with your boss. I don’t think he’d be keen on you keeping information from me. You may not like me, but he does. So spill the
beans or I’m going to tell him you’re trying to keep us apart.”
There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the phone. Then he said, “Did you look in his office?”
It sounded like Eldon was spitting the words out of his mouth as if they tasted bad. “No, where’s his office at?”
“Second floor, west wing. Third door on right.” He hung up.
“Grumpy, grumpy,” she said to herself, hanging up the receiver. With a cheerful saunter, she headed for the west wing and went up the stairs. The door to his office was easy enough to find—there were not many doors in the West Wing, which meant that these were large rooms instead of the hall where she slept, a long corridor full of doors that were guest rooms.
She hesitated in front of the door and then knocked.
“Enter,” Hunter called from within.
Bingo.
Gretchen opened the door halfway and slid inside, shutting it behind her. There was a lock on the door and she turned it. Good. She didn’t want Eldon barging in on them.
Hunter’s office was surprising to her. While the rest of the house was decorated in a Victorian, almost Rococo ornate elegance, the office was spare and gray. The walls were painted a pale, wintry shade. Photos of buildings of every kind and shape covered the walls. An enormous TV on the far end of the room was turned to a financial channel, and the ticker moved quietly across the screen, the volume down. To the left of Hunter’s desk was an entire panel of windows that overlooked the gardens. There was a long, curving balcony there, and she imagined that he stepped outside in the summer to look over his beautiful, blooming plants.
The most surprising thing to her was that Hunter’s desk faced the far wall . . . and an enormous mirror. How very odd. She wouldn’t have thought Hunter, of all people, would work facing a mirror.
He looked up as she closed the door, glancing at her in the mirror, desk phone in hand. Confusion showed on his face. “Gretchen?”
“Hey. You busy?”
He set the phone down in the cradle and turned his chair to face her. “Just have a few meetings today I can’t reschedule. What are you doing here?”
