Stepping into the hallway, I'm transported to another world. The corridor is wide with fancy, expensive-looking carpet that runs down the center. There are giant paintings on the walls and tables placed in front of big windows with flower arrangements on them. I guess in a home like this, hallways have windows.
I run my fingers along one of the tables before touching a vase full of flowers. I shouldn’t be surprised they're real with how perfect they are. Leaning in, I inhale their fresh scent and then look out the window.
The view from here is still the same from our living area with rolling hills and trees in the distance. This place really is in a league of its own. One that I find hard to believe I'm a part of.
Importing and exporting must pay really well. I wonder how I crossed paths with Salvador the first time we met. I've peppered him with lots of questions, but that hadn't been one. I mentally add it to my growing list of questions that he loves to distract me from.
When I pass the first door, I pause and poke my head in. It’s a bedroom without any special touches, so I’m guessing it’s a spare room. I keep walking, and every time I find another door, it’s pretty much the same. It’s not until I come to the end of the corridor that I see a double staircase. Yes, two. They go to the same place but split so that one set goes down one wall and one goes down the other. They curve around and lead to a massive marble floor below, but I pause before deciding where to go.
I realize I’m standing at a literal four-way stop. I can go back the way I came, go down the stairs, continue straight ahead, or turn left down another hallway. After a second to think it over, I decide to take the stairs. I’m not sure if there are others that have a residence in the extra wings of the estate.
As I'm going down, a woman in a black uniform with a white apron hurries by. When she spots me, she quickly averts her eyes. I can’t help but wonder if she’s trying to avoid me. Am I mean to the staff? No, I am the staff. Oh, shit. Where did that thought come from? I am the staff? Maybe I worked in other places as a maid? That feels right, but I can't explain why. If I try too hard to follow the thought, it gives me a headache, so I don’t push myself to continue thinking about it.
I watch the woman walk downstairs and decide to follow her. She makes a couple of turns before entering a massive kitchen, and then I lose sight of her. How is that possible? I guess it’s not hard to disappear in a house this size.
“Mrs. Roven,” an older, lanky man says as he comes into the kitchen from another direction. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Oh shit, he’s talking to me. That’s right, I’m Mrs. Roven.
“No thanks, I’m only checking things out.” This must be Edward. Salvador has spoken of him more than a few times. When I keep on moving, I’m worried he’s going to try and stop me.
Then I see another door and try to open it. "Mrs. Roven,” he rushes to say as he comes over to where I’m standing. "That’s the basement and cellar. Certainly there’s no reason to go down there."
"Doesn’t look like I could even if I wanted to." I wiggle the locked handle to prove my point. "Unless you have a key?" I give him a mischievous smile, but his expression remains neutral.
"I have ricotta-filled cannoli."
"Oh, you're good," I tell him as I extend my hand in greeting. "I'm Jema. I mean, I’m sure you know that. We’ve clearly met before now, but it’s new to me."
"Edward,” he says calmly and shakes my hand politely before releasing it. “I handle the estate."
"Cool." I nod, glancing around. I can only imagine how big an undertaking that is. "This place has quite the vibe," I laugh. "The kind of vibe that’s for doing dirty, dark deeds."
"Excuse me?" His gray brows pull together, and I lean in.
"You don't know?" He gives a curt shake of his head. "I think this place might be haunted." A small laugh escapes him, revealing emotion for the first time. "Come on, you can tell me. That’s why the basement is locked, right? There are things down there that go bump in the night."
"You have quite the imagination."
"I should. After all, I'm a best-selling romantic suspense author."
"I was unaware of this," he says in confusion as his eyes search my face.
"I'm teasing," I say and playfully punch his shoulder. "I'm just making shit up. I guess that’s what you do when you have no memories."
“I understand." He gives me another curt nod, and I lean closer.
“Now about those cannoli you mentioned,” I say, and I swear he starts to smile. It’s only on one side, but he quickly gets it under control and motions for me to go back into the kitchen with him. “You know, if I say something funny and you laugh or smile, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Well,” he starts to say as he grabs a small plate and places a couple of cannoli on it, “you’d have to say something funny to find out.”
He pushes the plate toward me, and I don’t hide my smile. “Shots fired! I see how it is.”
“What’s going on in here?" a deep, sexy voice rumbles from behind me, sending a hot shiver of pleasure down my spine.
“We’ve been caught," I whisper to Edward.
“You’ve been caught,” he corrects.
