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He looks at me as if I’ve asked if my last name is Bachman. “Of course I do. I’ll get the lady. She’ll take you up.”
“Oh. Alone?”
“Yeah.” He pops a grape in his mouth, already halfway across the kitchen to find the woman from the real estate company. “The layout is perfect. You’re safe as a caterpillar in a cocoon. No need to share a room tonight.”
“Right,” I say, feeling like a kid who’s been uninvited from a sleepover. “Cool.”
Alone, I stand at the island, waiting for my escort. She pops around the corner, a pink scarf knotted at her throat. “Hi! Awesome house, right? You ready?”
I follow her up the riser-less wood stair treads, wondering why half the excitement has been sucked out of my party balloon. Why do I care that I’m sleeping alone? A young woman traveling to meet the man who could possibly be her fiancé should not be having hurt feelings over not having her bodyguard sleep in her room.
Alone for the night and too tired for a shower, I pull my hair back into a ponytail, wash my face, do a nice little washcloth bath over any problem areas, and brush my teeth and hair. The room has a wall of windows, and I’m careful to hide from them as I strip off all my clothing, slipping on soft, gray sweatpants and a matching shirt.
The lighting in the room reflects off the glass so I flick off the lights. One more look at the gorgeous forest before I go to bed. Moving to the massive bay of spotless windows, I stare out over the yard.
It’s beautiful.
I lean on the wood rim of the window and breathe, smiling quietly to myself as I watch the forest, envisioning all sorts of mythical creatures, werewolves and vampires and fire-breathing dragons.
Will it feel like this? When I live in a castle in the Italian countryside? I’ve never been to Italy before. Are the trees tall, the forest dense with plenty of scope for an imaginative reader?
I stare out over the darkness, the moonlight shimmering over the woods. There’s a ping sound on the glass just to my right, so faint that at first I think I’ve made it up in my heightened storybook state.
The second sound is more distinguishable, a pebble hitting the window. Is someone trying to get my attention? A hot werewolf, perhaps? Or, more likely in real life, a serial killer? My heart beats harder, but then I remember the multitude of guards that not only surround me but fill this house.
I look down, eyeing the ground for the responsible party. There, looking up at me just as he was earlier today when we toured the building where the bookstore was in the movie, Sav stands, looking up at me with dark, serious eyes.
Seeing he has my attention, he holds up his hand, crooks two fingers, and beckons me.
“Me?” I say aloud, idiotically, my hand pointing to my chest. I’m the only one in the room, he tossed rocks at my window, and he’s looking right at me.
He shrugs, looking around, mouthing something that looks like, “Who else?”
Barefaced, I glance down at my sweats, wearing nothing underneath. Do I go? And if I do, do I put on makeup first? What could he want from me, this late, alone in the woods? Well, semi-alone. There are twelve guards from the family out there, standing by in the dark.
How do I not go, though? He’s the responsible party, the one in charge. What if he has an important message for me? Silly Paisley, he would have come to your room if it was something important, or sent someone.
He wants you.
I shake my head at him. “No.”
He arches his right brow sky high and gives me the look. The one that sends a tickling feeling in between my thighs. Again, he holds up those perfect fingers and crooks them, beckoning me, and in my virgin mind I can’t help but imagine them inside me.
I go.
nineteen
Paisley
When I reach the front porch, he’s gone. I glance out over the edge of the forest, seeing him a little further in the woods, leaning against a majestic fir tree. I hadn’t noticed from up at the window, but he’s changed clothes, trading his work attire for something more casual, a pair of black sweats, a dark sweater, and pristine white sneakers that practically glow in the moonlight.
Does the man look good in everything?
Probably looks best in nothing…
Wow, Paise.
But seriously.
