Read Online The Mogul's Maybe Marriage by Mindy Klasky - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mindy Klasky
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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Had Ethan ordered the flowers? Or had James taken care of the detail, just another one of his homey services? Were not-red roses the standing order of the day where âlovely visitorsâ were concerned?
She could see that James had turned down the sheets on the king-size bed. She half expected to find a mint left on her pillow. Shaking her head, she turned to unpack her suitcase. Sheâd been lazy all afternoon; she should have hung up her clothes before now. Well, better late than never.
Except that her suitcase was nowhere to be found.
She looked on either side of the bed. Under the massive wooden frame. Behind the bedroom door.
At last, realization dawned on her. She crossed to the large closet that James had indicated when heâd first shown her around the house. Opening the door, she discovered a room that was nearly as large as the entire apartment sheâd left behind.
And there, huddling like refugees in a border camp, were her clothes. A quick check of the bathroom confirmed that her drugstore toiletries were displayed on the counter like crown jewels, looking sad amid luxurious towels and gleaming fixtures. Sloane shook her head. This was too much. It was all too much.
After finishing in the bathroom, she sighed deeply as she climbed into the bed. The mattress was twice the size of the beaten-up old bed in her apartment. The peach-and-honey-colored sheets were crisp and cool, even on this muggy June night. A featherweight comforter settled over her body with a whisper.
She lay back on the pillow and forced herself to take a dozen deep breaths. She imagined the picture she would draw if she could fire up her computer, if she could use the Hope Projectâs specialized software. Thereâd be a mommy and a daddy and a baby, all standing on Ethanâs front lawn, all happy and healthy and together.
The wind picked up outside, and a treeâs wooden fingers scraped against her window, shattering the bright image she was painting inside her mind. It was going to be a long, long night.
Â
Ethan paused outside the door of the guest suite. He glanced at his watch. A few minutes past two. Well, no reason that he should expect to see a glint of light under the door, was there?
He sighed in frustration. This wasnât the way heâd planned on having Sloane arrive at his home. Oh, it certainly seemed that things had gone smoothly once Daniel had gotten her out of that godforsaken apartment. He hoped that she wasnât going to insist on bringing along any of her furniture; none of it deserved even a brief afterlife in some college dorm room.
James had reported that Sloane had settled in well.With the nonstop rain, she shouldnât have minded being cooped up in the house. Too much.
But Ethan regretted having spent the entire day at the office. The Swiss production problem should never have taken so long to resolve. At least everything would be back online by Monday morning.
In fact, heâd managed to turn the Zurich fiasco into a good thing. Grandmother had insisted on heading over there to monitor the new quality assurance process for a few days. The quick trip would be a win-win. His grandmother could exercise her iron will over the Swiss plant, and the foreign engineers would learn just how serious Hartwell Genetics was about its demands. At first, Ethan had worried about the strain of travel, but that concern faded after he managed to convince Grandmother to spend a few weeks in her Paris apartment before she came home.
Those would be a few weeks that Ethan could spend getting his own life in order, getting past the all-important genetic testing with Sloane. He carefully hid his true concerns, convincing his grandmother that he only wanted Pierre and Jeanette to pamper her in her luxurious Seventh Arrondissement home. Looking out at the Eiffel Tower, she could get all the rest that she deserved.
Rest. He could use some himself. He should go to bed, get
Had Ethan ordered the flowers? Or had James taken care of the detail, just another one of his homey services? Were not-red roses the standing order of the day where âlovely visitorsâ were concerned?
She could see that James had turned down the sheets on the king-size bed. She half expected to find a mint left on her pillow. Shaking her head, she turned to unpack her suitcase. Sheâd been lazy all afternoon; she should have hung up her clothes before now. Well, better late than never.
Except that her suitcase was nowhere to be found.
She looked on either side of the bed. Under the massive wooden frame. Behind the bedroom door.
At last, realization dawned on her. She crossed to the large closet that James had indicated when heâd first shown her around the house. Opening the door, she discovered a room that was nearly as large as the entire apartment sheâd left behind.
And there, huddling like refugees in a border camp, were her clothes. A quick check of the bathroom confirmed that her drugstore toiletries were displayed on the counter like crown jewels, looking sad amid luxurious towels and gleaming fixtures. Sloane shook her head. This was too much. It was all too much.
After finishing in the bathroom, she sighed deeply as she climbed into the bed. The mattress was twice the size of the beaten-up old bed in her apartment. The peach-and-honey-colored sheets were crisp and cool, even on this muggy June night. A featherweight comforter settled over her body with a whisper.
She lay back on the pillow and forced herself to take a dozen deep breaths. She imagined the picture she would draw if she could fire up her computer, if she could use the Hope Projectâs specialized software. Thereâd be a mommy and a daddy and a baby, all standing on Ethanâs front lawn, all happy and healthy and together.
The wind picked up outside, and a treeâs wooden fingers scraped against her window, shattering the bright image she was painting inside her mind. It was going to be a long, long night.
Â
Ethan paused outside the door of the guest suite. He glanced at his watch. A few minutes past two. Well, no reason that he should expect to see a glint of light under the door, was there?
He sighed in frustration. This wasnât the way heâd planned on having Sloane arrive at his home. Oh, it certainly seemed that things had gone smoothly once Daniel had gotten her out of that godforsaken apartment. He hoped that she wasnât going to insist on bringing along any of her furniture; none of it deserved even a brief afterlife in some college dorm room.
James had reported that Sloane had settled in well.With the nonstop rain, she shouldnât have minded being cooped up in the house. Too much.
But Ethan regretted having spent the entire day at the office. The Swiss production problem should never have taken so long to resolve. At least everything would be back online by Monday morning.
In fact, heâd managed to turn the Zurich fiasco into a good thing. Grandmother had insisted on heading over there to monitor the new quality assurance process for a few days. The quick trip would be a win-win. His grandmother could exercise her iron will over the Swiss plant, and the foreign engineers would learn just how serious Hartwell Genetics was about its demands. At first, Ethan had worried about the strain of travel, but that concern faded after he managed to convince Grandmother to spend a few weeks in her Paris apartment before she came home.
Those would be a few weeks that Ethan could spend getting his own life in order, getting past the all-important genetic testing with Sloane. He carefully hid his true concerns, convincing his grandmother that he only wanted Pierre and Jeanette to pamper her in her luxurious Seventh Arrondissement home. Looking out at the Eiffel Tower, she could get all the rest that she deserved.
Rest. He could use some himself. He should go to bed, get
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