Page 27 of His Dark Pact

The problem with a tour of a place as big as Kyle’s, though, was it could never be ‘brief’—the property spanned three levels and numerous reception rooms. She’d lost count of the rows of bedroom doors, and by the time she had a vague layout of the place in her head, she was ready to collapse.

11:42

Her eyes settled on her watch again, aware of the niggling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why was she conscious of the time? What was so important about it?

Kyle had agreed she should rest and that her normal eight o’clock duties would begin the following day, so why couldn’t she shake the sense that something was wrong?

The digits of her watch changed to 11:44 as the answer crashed down on her. In a split second, his instructions echoed in her mind—he’d told her to meet him in his study at midday!

“Shit!” She rushed to the mirror and blinked at the disheveled woman staring back at her. She had to make herself look presentable and get downstairs in only a few minutes.

Finding her duffel bags, she rifled through the contents for something appropriate to wear. But what was appropriate when she was working for a man like Kyle? She wanted to look smart and attractive, but based on how few choices she had, she realized she’d have to take what she could get.

“Why didn’t I unpack yesterday?” she complained, tugging out a blouse that looked like it had been dragged through a hedge. She’d definitely have to find an iron if the blouse would ever make the grade.

The reality of the prior night hadn’t lent itself to great organization. Kyle had walked her back to her room and said goodnight. Exhausted from the stress of the day and the emotion of the evening, sleep had claimed her as soon as her head hit the pillow. But in the light of the waning morning, things were starkly different. Now, she condemned ‘past Amy’ for not having been more organized. Now, she wished she’d had the foresight to find an outfit before she’d climbed into bed.

She decided on the only shirt she had left, shaking out the cream fabric and hoping for the best as she searched for a suitable item to pair it with. The brown mid-length skirt she found was far from ideal, but it would have to do. Stripping out of the oversized tee that doubled as a nightshirt, she flung the clothing on the bed as she raced to the en suite to freshen up.

Based on the multiple rooms Kyle had shown her the prior night, hers was actually not that large, but to Amy, it was luxurious. The white fittings and soft blue furnishings were just the kind of touches she’d have chosen for herself had she enjoyed Kyle’s money.

By the time she was dressed and had dragged a brush through her ungainly mop of hair, her watch indicated there were only four minutes until she was due to meet her new live-in boss. Spraying herself with vanilla scent, she slid on her flat shoes, grabbed her phone, and slid it into her skirt pocket.

She bolted from the room and rounded the galleried landing, temporarily awed yet again by the enormity of the place. Each side of the triangular gallery was decorated in exquisite gold-framed mirrors and fine art. As she looked up past the top floor of the house, she was struck by the impressive cylindrical glass roof, which flooded the space with natural light.

She was almost at the bottom of the staircase when the grandfather clock in the huge hallways struck midday. Stilling at the initial chime, her gaze bored into the clock’s face with disbelief.

No!She checked her watch for the umpteenth time that morning as she sped toward the corridor hiding his study.No, I can’t be late!

The clock was striking its twelfth peal as she knocked on the door, then stopped to compose herself. She prayed the sound meant he still considered her to be on time. If there was one thing that irritated Amy, it was tardiness, and she didn’t want to be guilty of the offense on her very first day.

“Enter!”

She tensed at his terse tone, her pulse speeding up. What did that mean? Was he angry with her, or was that just how he sounded when he was interrupted?

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kyle.” She forced a smile as she opened the door and stepped inside.

“Right on time, Amy.” He closed the lid of his laptop and regarded her. “Close the door, please.”

With the first obstacle seemingly tackled, she did as he asked, shutting the door before walking in the direction of the chair she’d sat in to sign the contract.

“No.”

She stopped at his hard tone. “Sir?”

“You won’t be sitting down.” He dismissed the idea with a casual flick of his wrist. “Let me look at you.”

“Lookat me?” She said the words aloud, her brows knitting as though he’d spoken another language.

“Yes.” His brow rose. “Stand up straight so I can look at you.”

She tensed as his concentration speared her, painfully aware of his attention as it crawled over her body. She recalled the beginning of the meal he’d bought her when he’d evaluated her choice of attire at Worthington’s. That had been uncomfortable enough, but the excitement of their meeting had placated his judgment. This scrutiny, though, was something else altogether. The intensity of his interest was consuming as the silence stretched out around her.

“Turn around, please.” He gestured for her to circle.

Heart racing, she spun slowly, feeling like an animal on parade.

“Is this what housekeepers do?” She’d intended it as a joke, but even she could hear how brittle her voice sounded as she spun. “Is the role secretly a fashion show?”