“Condition?”
I’m amused that she has any conditions to lay down and she huffs, “First we head to Zurich to the Goldsworthy head office where I’ll attempt to get a message to my grandfather and then we will leave on your jet but only if you promise not to touch me, speak to me, look at me or engage with me in polite conversation because you really aren’t the kind of friend I want in my life.”
I lift the bottle to my lips to disguise the amusement on my face because could this woman be any more adorable? I love how she believes she has choices where it concerns me, and with a dismissive glare she turns on her heels and slams the bathroom door behind her.
CHAPTER 14
ALICE
As days go, I’ve had better. It’s hard to believe I could have had a worse one, but living with Morgan tops this one. I would suffer this as my Groundhog Day as long as that woman wasn’t in it, and with a sigh, I turn my attention to the mess I’m in right now.
When faced with my situation, I could cry, but when faced with my, um, face, I do cry.
Tears of disbelief merge with the purple bruises on my skin, and I reach up and gingerly touch the swelling that man’s fist gifted me.
I’m a mess, inside and out, and I can’t believe how much damage he inflicted with just a few blows. If anything, I’m angry that he died a quick death because men who do this to a woman deserve a long, slow death or life imprisonment.
Then there is the man outside—and I use that term loosely because quite frankly he could be a god from Mount Olympus itself. I have never seen such a fine specimen of male brilliance, and if I wasn’t so angry, I would be dazzled by him.
He is probably the finest example of a man I have ever seen, and yet his personality is way down in the trash. The one that is festering at the bottom of the can—the worst kind, and I amusemyself with images of him as a dirty heap of stinking, festering trash.
Then again, he did rescue me, comfort me and offer me kindness, but I push that away and concentrate on hating him instead. He is telling me what to do and I naturally rebel against that, and so with a sigh, I use the toilet before turning on the shower.
Despite everything, the day I had and my predicament now, nothing can dull the pleasure this simple act brings. I can’t remember when I had one as hot as this. The shower at the convent was a shared one and usually cold by the time it was my turn.
The scalding water pours over my head, and I use the complimentary shampoo and conditioner to cleanse away the trauma of the day.To wash that man out of my hair.Never was a song title so apt because, against all of my wishes, I can’t stop thinking about him. Stefan who? I can no longer even remember what he looked like because that man has eclipsed every other man in the world. He is a mirage, a freaking god, and I’m ashamed to admit I am having inappropriate thoughts about him.
My body is relaxed, clean and invigorated, and my soul appears to be the opposite courtesy of one man. He is sliding through it like a potion designed to tempt me from the path I was set on. His strong jaw and the angry way he glared at me was a serious turn-on that raises doubts about my sanity. I should desire an angel, not a demon, and I am only one day out from the convent and spiraling into hell.
I witnessed a massacre today.
That should be all I can think about right now. Men died today because of me. Do I care? It appears that I don’t.
I should be kneeling on the marble floor and praying for their souls, but I am delighting in their demise as if it were a personalgift to make me happy. I am screwed, a despicable creature who should be ashamed of herself, and this beating I took was well deserved because I have no regrets.
With a sigh, I shut off the flow of water and step into a warm towel from the heated towel rail. Already feeling a thousand times better as I gaze critically into the mirror.
I’m a mess. A hot mess even and yet despite my circumstances, I can’t wipe the smile from my face. I am living—this is living on speed, and I never expected life could be so dramatic.
I’m on the cusp of a brave new world, and will face it head-on and I intend on using the man outside to help me.
I’ll agree to his conditions knowing that once my grandfather learns of my existence, he will come for me. We will search for my mom together, and he will care for us both. That is my future and I can’t wait and when the dust settles and the year of freedom is under question, I will be reunited with my sisters, and we will make a new life together.
It doesn’t even cross my mind that they will return to the Order of the Holy Mother of God. We belong together and deep in my heart I know their decision before they do.
The shower has cleansed my spirit as well as my body, and as I reach for the robe hanging on the back of the door, I bemoan the fact my suitcase never made it here with me. I only have the sundress I was wearing and the sandals, and I should probably address that. Perhaps my planning wasn’t foolproof after all, and I should really pick up a few supplies using the money Sister Agatha gave me.
Yes, shopping would help. I’ve never had the pleasure of choosing my own outfit. Even the dress was on loan from the convent donation store, which I sure could use access to right now.
Luckily, there is a complimentary toothbrush and paste, and it’s such a luxury to clean my teeth. It’s as if I’m a new woman as I towel-dry my hair before lifting the hairdryer mounted on a holder on the wall.
When I finally emerge, it’s with renewed vigor and my heart somersaults when I notice the man sitting on the bed checking his phone. He has taken off his jacket and the corded muscles in his arms ripple as he grips the phone; the tattoos decorating them causing me to swallow hard. How is such a demon so irresistibly attractive? I mean, God obviously gave him too much in the looks department and skipped on his personality.
He glances up and I falter at the intensity of his gaze, those dark eyes brimming with power, something I’ve never really witnessed before.
“That must feel better.”
His brief nod as he returns his gaze to the phone is dismissive, and I’m guessing that’s easy for him. He is probably used to supermodels trailing after him, and I hate how inferior he makes me feel.
