At Your Service by Sandra Antonelli

Author:Sandra Antonelli
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sandra Antonelli
Published: 2018-09-13T04:00:00+00:00

THERE WERE TWO TWIN beds.

Kitt found himself standing amid Baroque-influenced opulence in a splendid suite in the Belmond Grand Hotel Timeo. There was a spacious private balcony, views to the sea, a marble bathroom, a living area, fresh cut flowers, and...two twin beds. “Are you happy, Mrs Valentine?” he said.

“You said you had enough of spartan living and wanted a suite. This was the only suite available.”

His mouth pursed and he dropped the shopping bag onto a green silk sofa. “Twin beds. How quaint.”

“Quaint, perhaps, but I would not call this spartan.”

“That is because you have an inexplicable fear of large beds.”

Mae crossed the room and went to the desk. She set her handbag down and removed the iPad from the side pocket. “This would be rectified if you’d let me have my own room.”

“I told you yesterday. I am not letting you out of my sight. Why is it you fear adult-sized beds, Mae?”

“I don’t like sleeping alone. The larger the bed, the more alone I feel.”

He regarded her for a moment and gave her a little smile. “There’s an odd sense of logic to that.” Kitt’s phone buzzed. He dragged it out of his pocket.

“Is it Torrisi?”

“No,” he said, looking at the screen. “It’s Llewelyn.”

She went to the sofa to retrieve the dress from the bag and moved to the wardrobe for a hanger. “Who’s Llewelyn?”

“My employer. Will you excuse me?” Kitt opened the glass-paned door to the balcony and stepped outside.

Double-glazed, the windows let in no sound from outdoors, but as Mae hung up the dress she watched Kitt for a moment. His flat expression grew even duller while he spoke to his employer. His slide into stone-faced was—she knew now—a good indication that he was angry, and she understood why. In all the years she’d been in service, she’d never had an employer intrude on her holiday time. There was something irritating about an employer or company that felt as if they owned an employee, going so far as to keep tabs on them. It was understandable in Kitt’s work as a risk assessor that his company would monitor his whereabouts for reasons of safety when he was on an assignment, but monitoring him while he was on holiday was...was...exactly what Kitt was doing with her now. His ‘not letting you out of my sight’ comment, something she’d construed as a turn of phrase, was Kitt stating, directly, that he was keeping tabs on her.

She watched him grip the balcony railing, the sun on his back, his hair shining more ginger than dark blond. She thought of how he looked the night in front of the Nepali embassy, when he’d broken a man’s nose, when his face was cast with the same lack of expression as now. Then she thought of him when he’d stood behind her, looking at her in the reflection of the medicine-chest mirror in his bathroom. Finally, she thought about the frown he’d worn when he’d told her she was a nuisance, and she was glad he was keeping tabs on her.

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