Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I drank a glass of water from the tap, refilled it, and carried it back to bed, my throbbing head hung. I’d had enough hangovers to know I needed aspirin and something to eat to soak up the stomach acid. Only then would I be able to rejoin the land of the living.
But I also needed thirty more minutes in bed.
As soon as my head touched the cool pillow, there was an odd chirp from across the room. It sounded exactly like Shawn’s phone when he received an e-mail.
“Guten Morgen,” he said.
He sat on the couch facing me, looking comfortable. Like he’d been there awhile. His eyes were exceptionally warm in the morning light, filtered by the gauzy hotel curtains. I did everything in my limited power not to react.
He was dressed in a black suit, one that reeked of expense, with a crisp white dress shirt and a steel-colored silk tie at his neck. He was gorgeous. It was so impossibly unfair. He was going to ruin looking at men for me too, while I could not possibly look or feel worse than I did right now.
“How long have you been there?” I demanded.
He gave me an enigmatic smile for an answer.
“What the hell are you doing, besides being creepy?”
“I wanted to have breakfast with you.” He stood, and when his impressive form approached, I took in a sharp breath that forced me to inhale his appealing cologne. “But I have to go.”
“Where?” I gasped. “Why?”
Yes, why? Why in the world had I said that? I prepared for some cocky answer, but instead he hesitated, as if the question had thrown him off balance.
“You’re not still mad?”
“No, I am,” I said, too quickly. “Why did you want to have breakfast? Is that something you do after all your one-night stands?”
“We can’t have breakfast because it’s late,” he said, not rising to my challenge. “I need to be in the office today.”
“Is that safe?”
“Yes. My head of security insists the brewery is secure, and you know how he feels about my proximity to you.”
It was then that I noticed the faint smell of coffee. Shawn strolled to the side table and poured a cup from the carafe beside a spread of danishes, adding sugar into the steaming mug. We’d had coffee with breakfast on his plane yesterday, so I knew he took his black. He must have noted that I did not.
My cloudy mind wouldn’t focus. Shawn was leaving.
When he held the cup out, I sat up and accepted it but didn’t offer any gratitude. The hangover had disrupted my brain-to-mouth filter, and I had no idea what was going to come out of it.
He pulled a small bottle from his pocket and set it on the nightstand. “I had them send up something with breakfast when I discovered you weren’t feeling well.”
He’d probably discovered all the red wine had gone missing as well.
Shit, I wanted to die from embarrassment.
“Do you think you’ll be feeling better later today?”
I pressed my lips together and nodded slowly. My face was on fire. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good. I’ll have my assistant arrange for a shopper to help get you clothes.”
My gaze fell to the steam rising from my coffee. I did need clothes, but shopping? “I can’t use my credit cards—”
“I’d like to take care of that.” The words came from him softly. Not presumptuous. “Is that all right with you?”
I couldn’t find anything to say. This was sweet Shawn, the one I had no defense against, who could make coherent thought evaporate instantly. My lack of answer must have been read as acceptance because he traveled to the door and dug his wallet out, dropping a business card on the table. “I’ll be back this evening. Since I doubt you have my number memorized, my mobile’s on the back if you need to call.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He gave me the same enigmatic smile and was gone.
I showered and dressed, and at noon Markus escorted a young woman into my room, pulling a luggage cart full of hanging bags. She introduced herself as Brigitta. I blinked back a delighted smile. Laurel and I had watched The Sound of Music repeatedly growing up, practically wearing out the DVD. I’d always had quite the ridiculous crush on the elegant and bossy Captain von Trapp.
I shoved away the realization that Shawn was bossy, and elegant, and not too far off from being Austrian.
Inside each clothing bag, Brigitta had the same outfit in multiple sizes, so it didn’t take long to find a few days’ worth of clothes that would work. It was awkward buying clothes with someone else’s money and a stranger selecting them, but there was no helping it. Then Brigitta brought out the box at the base of the luggage cart and lifted the lid.