Destiny's Last Bachelor?. Christyne Butler
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“If you can wait about thirty minutes, I should be able to arrange something for you.”
“You’re an angel, Ms. Gates.”
“Please call me Minnie. All our spa services are done here on the main floor. Come down whenever you’re ready.”
Priscilla smiled her thanks, grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator. Once inside, she pulled Snake to her chest and graced him with a gentle kiss on his head. “Thank you for being a perfect gentleman with Minnie. I know the last couple of days have been rough and that scene down at the river didn’t help.”
Snake snuggled close and sighed. Priscilla remembered the first time the dog had done that. Her sister had brought the tiny creature home, presenting him with great fanfare, but then soon had gone off on another adventure, leaving Snake behind. A few days later the pup had followed Priscilla into her home office late one night. He’d weighed less than her briefcase when she picked him up and seconds later he’d made himself at home in her lap with the same contented sigh.
The elevator doors opened and Priscilla found her room at the end of the long hall. Stepping inside, she smiled as she took in the large space decorated in French country style. The bed linens, pillows and walls were done in soothing pastel colors such as aged ivory, lavender, pale yellow and green. The suite had a sitting area, complete with a fireplace on one side and a four-poster bed on the far wall. Her trained eye picked out the handmade, ornate Aubusson rug beneath her feet and the antique desk that sat directly in front of a set of windows that looked out over a beautiful garden and patio.
It didn’t take long to get Snake settled before her luggage arrived. Then she pulled out her cell phone to charge it, noting she had two more messages from her father. That made six since she’d left Beverly Hills.
Forcing herself to enter her passcode, she listened to the last one he’d left for her around lunchtime today.
“Priscilla, where are you? It’s been two days since the gala. An event you walked out on halfway through, I might add. I can’t reach your sister, either, but that’s no surprise. Call me. This situation needs to be handled. Now. This isn’t like you. You know how much I count on you being the responsible one—”
Cutting off the message before he could finish his lecture, Priscilla noted her father sounded more angry than worried by the fact he couldn’t seem to reach her.
She itched to return his call, to tell him someone else needed to handle things this time, but she’d already tried twice today and ended up leaving a message with his efficient secretary. She’d asked that he be told she was fine, still planned to be out of town for the foreseeable future and would call when she was settled.
Deciding that would do for now, she peeled off her damp clothes and slipped into a pair of dry panties, comfortable yoga sweats and a simple top. She hesitated for a moment, but then left her hair in the messy knot on her head and gave the large claw-foot bathtub in the adjoining bath a longing glance before realizing more than a half hour had passed and she was supposed to be downstairs.
First a massage, then she’d order some dinner from a local restaurant chosen from the list she’d found on the desk and crack open a gourmet doggy-food packet for Snake.
After all that, she should probably call Bobby and let him know—surprise!—she was in town.
She went downstairs and wandered around the first floor, walking through two beautiful parlors filled with comfortable antique furniture, fresh flowers and lots of books. But she didn’t see her host anywhere.
“Can I help you?”
Priscilla turned and found the nice young girl who had brought her suitcases to her room earlier. “I’m looking for Minnie. She’s arranged for me to have a massage and I fear I’m running late.”
“Minnie has gone to the carriage house out back—that’s where she and the Major live—but I can show you where to go if you like.”
“Yes, please.”
Priscilla followed the girl, who looked to still be in high school, back into the first parlor, when the old-fashioned ringing of a telephone filled the air. “Oh, I need to get that,” she said. “If you just go to the room on the other side of the foyer with the double glass doors, you’ll see everything is ready for you.”
Heading in the direction the girl pointed, Priscilla found a large ballroom on the other side of the foyer. It was empty, but she could easily picture it being used for parties and receptions. She walked deeper into the room, spotting the glass doors at the far end.
She stepped through them and found a converted porch with beautifully arched floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed light to pour in while honeycomb-shaped blinds assured privacy. A massage table draped in white linens had been set up in the center of the room with a nearby table holding scented candles, assorted lotions, a glass pitcher of ice water with sliced lemons and a stack of oversize towels.
Perfection.
No sign of the masseur or masseuse yet, but knowing she was already running late, Priscilla grabbed one of the towels and headed for the restroom in the far corner.
She quickly undressed and wrapped the towel around her. Leaving her clothes on a nearby chair, she headed for the table and perched herself on the edge, figuring she’d stretch out and wait. Before she could twist around to lie on her stomach, the glass doors opened.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A deep male voice filled the air. “Boy, I’ve had the craziest afternoon—”
Priscilla froze when the sexy Good Samaritan from earlier today entered the room. “You!”
Confusion crossed his face for a moment as he studied her. Then he flashed her that same confident grin he’d sent her way earlier today. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”
She couldn’t believe it! Of all people, why would he be— “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me for not recognizing you right away....” His voice trailed off as he took a step into the room, his gaze darting around the floor. “You look a little different without your sunglasses.”
His perusal stopped the moment it landed on her bare toes and his smile deepened as he slowly let his gaze travel up her legs. By the time he reached the edge of the towel that rode high on her thighs, a warm flush had enveloped Priscilla.
She should be annoyed at his deliberate scrutiny, but for some reason she was—pleased? No, that couldn’t be right. Just because her ex had rarely taken his nose out of his financial journals, even during a dinner conversation, didn’t mean she thought that she felt—
“Or without your clothes,” he added.
Okay, pleased or not, he shouldn’t be in here. “Look, I don’t know who you are—”
“Dean