The first thing Victoria noticed was that someone was in her bed. The second thing she noticed was that someone was warm and soft and smelled like vanilla and something else she couldn't quite identify. The third thing she noticed was the sound of breaking glass and the sharp pain of someone's elbow connecting with her ribs.
"What the hell…" she managed, sitting up too quickly in the darkness just as the warm, soft someone did the same thing. She should, she was beginning to think, be afraid. But then she didn’t have time to think further.
The collision was spectacular. Two heads meeting with the sort of crack that suggested both parties would be sporting matching bruises by morning.
"Ow, Christ," said the someone, who had a distinctly feminine voice and appeared to be clutching her forehead. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I was looking for the loo and I got completely lost and I thought this was my room and…"
Victoria blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of what was happening. There was a woman in her bed. A woman who was, she realized as her eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains, absolutely gorgeous.
Long blonde hair tumbled over bare shoulders, and even in the shadows Victoria could make out green eyes wide with mortification and a sharp, curious face.
Victoria's brain, which had been functioning perfectly well right up until the moment she'd woken up with a beautiful stranger in her bed, promptly shut down.
"You're…" she started, then stopped, because what exactly did one say in this situation? 'You're trespassing'? 'You're lovely'? 'You're making me question whether I’ll ever bother with the male part of being bisexual ever again'?
"Sasha," the woman supplied. "I'm Sasha. I'm with Ambrose. Well, I mean, I'm supposed to be with Ambrose. Pretending to be with Ambrose. It's complicated."
"Right," Victoria said slowly, though nothing about this felt right at all. She was acutely aware that they were both sitting up in her bed, close enough that she could feel warmth radiating from Sasha's skin. "You're Ambrose's… girlfriend."
"Fake girlfriend," Sasha clarified quickly. "Very fake. Completely fake. The fakest girlfriend in the history of fake girlfriends, actually."
Victoria felt a lightness. Not that it mattered. Not that she cared whether her brother's supposed girlfriend was real or imaginary. Not that she was having distinctly unsiblingly thoughts about said supposed girlfriend.
"I should, um, go…" Sasha said, making no move to actually leave. "I'm so sorry about your water glass. And your… um, everything."
"Don't worry about the glass," Victoria heard herself say. "It's just a glass." And then, because she really couldn’t help herself, "Are you hurt?" She reached out without thinking to touch the spot on Sasha's forehead where they'd collided.
The contact was electric. Sasha's skin was soft and warm, and Victoria felt something spark between them that had absolutelynothing to do with the fact that they'd just headbutted each other and everything to do with the way Sasha's breath caught when Victoria's fingers brushed against her temple.
Oh dear. Oh deary dear very much fucking dear. Victoria’s heart pounded and her mouth dried up.
"I'm fine," Sasha said, though her voice sounded slightly breathless. "Just, um, embarrassed."
Victoria reluctantly dropped her hand, though she was fairly certain she could have happily spent the rest of the night cataloguing every freckle on Sasha's face. Where the hell had that come from? "The house is rather confusing if you're not used to it."
"Rather confusing," Sasha repeated with a slight laugh. "Sophie did say third door from the main staircase, but apparently I can't count."
"Sophie told you third door?" Victoria smelled a very ratty rat.
"Mmm." Sasha was feeling around on the floor, presumably looking for her slippers. "She seemed lovely, by the way. Bit intense, but lovely."
Victoria felt a strange warmth at the compliment. Sophie was notoriously difficult to win over, suspicious of anyone new who entered their family orbit. If she'd taken to Sasha immediately, that said something interesting.
"She is lovely," Victoria agreed. "And you're in the right place, actually. Third door from the main staircase. But your room is the blue guest room, which is the fourth door. Sophie probably miscounted."
"Or she did it on purpose," Sasha said with another laugh. "She strikes me as the type who might find it amusing to watch chaos unfold."
She was probably right about that. Sophie had always been fond of stirring up trouble when she was bored.
"I should let you get back to sleep," Sasha said, finally locating her slippers and standing up. In the dim light, Victoria could see that she was tall and athletic, with the sort of casual grace that suggested she was comfortable in her own skin despite the current mortification. "Again, I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize," Victoria said. "These things happen." Except they generally didn’t. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d woken up to a woman in her bed. She also couldn’t think of the last time she’d felt so immediately and powerfully attracted to someone she'd literally just met.
After Sasha left, Victoria lay awake staring at the ceiling and trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Not that there was much sense. Just some vaguely defined feelings. About her brother’s fake girlfriend. She swore to herself and rolled over. Hopefully in the bright light of day, Sasha would prove to be ungenerous or cruel, or she’d shave her head before breakfast. Anything to make her less attractive.
BREAKFAST WAS SERVED on the terrace in deference to the warm morning, and Victoria arrived to find the family already assembled around the long table. Her grandmother presided at one end, looking formidable in pale blue silk, while her mother fluttered around ensuring everyone had sufficient tea and toast and morning papers.
