Her roommate in the other twin bed, Prissy Knowles stirred beneath the covers. “God, don’t tell me you’re up already. I feel like I just closed my eyes.”
“Go back to sleep. I’m used to getting up early.”
Prissy groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.
Ellie hurried through her morning routine, showered, plaited her hair into a single thick braid, pulled on her breeches and boots, and headed out the door. Since she was too early for the team bus, she’d take a taxi out to the show grounds, work with Jube for a while, then come back and take some free time to go to the Louvre, which was just across the street.
Ellie was headed down the hall toward the elevators, her mind on her morning workout at the show grounds, when the door in front of her opened and a girl she recognized as one of the team grooms stepped through the opening. Her dark hair was mussed, her clothes wrinkled, but the smile on Linda Gibbon’s face said she didn’t give a whit.
“Bye, lover.” She blew a kiss to the person behind the door. Even before Ellie heard his deep voice, she knew it was Clay.
“Wait a minute,” he called out. “You forgot your bag.”
Ellie tried to force her feet to keep moving, but they wouldn’t obey. Clay stood in the opening, holding out the girl’s purse, naked to the waist, a towel wrapped casually around his hips. He looked tanned and muscled and perfect. His eyes swept past the girl to Ellie, and he frowned at her stunned expression.
“Isn’t that Ellie Fletcher?” Linda said to him as Ellie forced her feet to move on down the hall. “She may be untouchable, but I bet you could give her a run for her money.” Linda laughed.
“Go on,” Clay said gruffly. “I’ll see you out at the stable.”
Ellie kept on walking. It took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. The elevator door opened, and she stepped inside. Linda was hurrying to catch the elevator.
“Wait!”
Ellie gave a grateful sigh when the doors closed in the woman’s face.
Dressed in a pair of beige gabardine slacks, a white shirt, and dark brown Italian loafers, Clay left the hotel. He’d decided to take the day off. He wasn’t ready to face Ellie Fletcher.
If he closed his eyes, he could still see her shocked expression. Not just surprise, but hurt and betrayal, like a woman who’d just caught her man in bed with a lover. Good God, they hadn’t even been out on a date!
Worst of all, Clay felt exactly the same.
What in the hell was the matter with him? He’d been seeing Linda Gibbons off and on for months. She had a lusty appetite and very little conscience. She made no demands on him, just seemed happy when he paid her the slightest attention. Last night she’d cornered him. Feeling edgy after the long plane flight and his bout with Caesar, Clay had taken her up to his suite.
He hadn’t really wanted Linda, caught himself more than once pretending she was Ellie. But he’d been determined he wouldn’t let the little redhead turn him down again. He’d made a promise to himself. He wasn’t about to chase after her any more than he had already!
Besides, there was Jake to consider. Maybe he had serious intentions toward Ellie. Then Clay recalled Jake’s affair with Maggie Delaine. Clay didn’t know what had happened, but he believed Jake had hurt Maggie badly.
Apparently, Jake Sullivan was no Prince Charming, himself.
Walking across the plush carpet in the lobby beneath crystal chandeliers, Clay shoved open the double glass doors and stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was still early, but he needed some air and a chance to think.
Was Ellie interested in Jake? He tried to recall the times he’d seen them together, tried to remember the look in her eyes. No, Ellie looked at Jake the way a woman looked at a friend.
He grunted. Ellie was old enough to know what she wanted. She was not that many years younger than he. Still, he could tell she was inexperienced. Damn sexy, but nothing like the women he dated.
As he crossed the Rue de Rivoli and headed toward the Tuileries gardens for a breath of fresh air, Ellie’s pretty face rose in his mind again. Damn her! The last thing he needed was a Pollyanna like Ellie Fletcher.
Damn her to hell for making him feel so bad.
Two days past. She’d been busy with the horses, getting them accustomed to the time change, working with Gerry and Jake. Tonight, there was a team dinner hosted by Avery Whitfield, who’d apparently taken time from his hunting trip in Scotland to fly in for an evening in Paris.
He was taking them to one of the best restaurants in the city, L’Archestrate.
Ellie found herself dreading the event.
God only knew who the man would be bringing, or for that matter, who Clay would bring as his date. It hurt to realize she cared who Clay entertained.
Glum since the incident in the hallway, she decided to cheer herself up. She would take the day off and go to the Louvre, as she had planned.
