Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Dougal mutters something beneath his breath.
Lady Helena turns back to me and lets loose with a jet of liquid. It gets me right in the left breast and hurts like hell. Trusting Her Ladyship with such a powerful water pistol was a mistake. One of several I may have made regarding her tonight.
I cover my chest with my arms. “Ouch. Not the boobs.”
“Sorry, sweetie. Turn around and I’ll do your back.”
“I think we’re finished,” I say, pushing my damp and oily hair out of my face. My eyes are still stinging and watering and yeah. “Thank you for trying to help, but I’ve had enough.”
“Oh.” Lady Helena’s face falls. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Thank you. I really appreciate you going to so much trouble. But yes.”
“All right, then.”
“Eighteen minutes of water torture isn’t bad,” says Dougal. “Good effort, lass.”
I give him a thumbs-up.
There’s a chance I’ve done something stranger in my lifetime. But I can’t remember what or when. Once my audience is gone and the bathroom door is closed, I strip off the bikini and wash myself from head to toe—not once, not twice, but three times. It takes about half a bottle of shampoo to get the salt and oil out of my hair. Nothing is going to get rid of the various scents clinging to me. My smell could most neatly be summed up as vaguely pleasant mass confusion.
I dress in wide-leg jeans and a white tee and socks. Pure comfort. My wet hair is tied up in a bun and my face is clean. Food has been delivered by the time I head back out. I didn’t know we were ordering, but I could definitely eat. A sentiment seconded by my growling stomach.
Rebecca is oohing and aahing over the assortment of dishes spread out on the coffee table. It’s a beautiful display of sashimi, tempura, gyoza, edamame, and more. “Look at this! Have you ever seen such a perfect piece of sushi in all your life? It’s a goddamn work of art.”
“No,” I agree. “This is amazing.”
“I noticed you had ‘Michelin star restaurant’ on your list,” says Lady Helena with a pleased little smile. “Dougal and I eat at Hara as often as we can. They were happy to put together something for you.”
This time when I tear up, it isn’t due to the salt. I mean, Uber Eats is great, but this is food delivery on a whole other level. Candles light the room and music plays at a low volume. After the drama and action in the bathroom, it is a balm to my soul. And another check off my wish list. Which makes me think about the countdown to my death day, but no, I won’t ruin this lovely moment by stressing out about that. Not when it wouldn’t even do any good. “This is beautiful. Thank you. But there’s so much. You’re not staying?”
“No.” She smiles. “It’s time for us to be heading home. I need my rest, what with a certain idiot who shall remain nameless calling at odd hours carrying on about absolute bollocks. I swear, one of these days, I am going to shove that crown right up his—”
Dougal loudly clears his throat.
“Thank you again,” I say. “I really appreciate it.”
“You’re very welcome.” She pats me on the cheek. “Don’t forget to use your mantra. It also wouldn’t be a bad idea to sleep with the crystal. Close contact can help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“We can go over how to put a hex on someone next time if you like. You know. Just in case you ever need it. Basic life skills and so on.”
“That’s enough now, Your Ladyship.” Dougal holds open the door, and Lady Helena sweeps out into the night. Then he gives us a parting nod. “Nice to meet you, Rebecca. Come and lock this door, Lilah.”
“Bye, Dougal,” I say, closing the door behind him. Now I know where Alistair learned his security-conscious ways and general bossiness.
“Getting back to your wish list.” Rebecca pours sake from the bottle into the two small matching cups. “I don’t have any major meetings tomorrow. How do you feel about me being your someone special to stay up all night and watch the sunrise with?”
“You’d do that?” I ask with a grin.
“Of course.” She smiles back at me. “If I qualify as a special person, that is. It might have been meant romantically.”
I am not going to get teary again. People being kind shouldn’t make me want to bawl. But for some reason these days, it definitely does. All the big feelings are bouncing around inside of me. Guess you appreciate moments on a different level when your time might be limited. Ticking items off my wish list sure has a special significance. “You are most definitely a special nonromantic person to me, and I would love to sit up all night with you.”