Page 21 of Her Kensington
6
Summer
“Morning, beautiful.”The sound of his rumbling voice eventually pulls me from an incredibly deep sleep.
“Morning,” I whisper back. Dragging my eyes open, I find Harrison looking handsome and ready for work in a sharp navy suit. “Are you leaving?” I ask, a frown tugging between my brows.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got a couple of meetings to attend. But I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. I made you a coffee,” he says, nodding at a mug on the nightstand.
I don’t want to be a needy wife but after spending all our time together for the past week, the thought of being apart doesn’t seem right.
“Danni will be up later. She’s taking you out for the day.” Thoughts of spending time getting to know his sister perk me up a little. “Will you be back for dinner?”
“Try stopping me. Everything you’ll need is either in the dressing room or the en suite, but if I’ve missed anything or got anything wrong, you can buy whatever you like while you’re out.” I watch as he places a credit card on the nightstand.
“Harrison, no I—” My words are cut off when he places a finger over my lips.
“No arguing, Summer. That card is yours and you can do what you please with it. There is no limit. What’s mine is now yours, no matter how much you might not like it.”
I pout under his fingers but all he does is smile at me.
“I’m serious. If there’s anything you’ve ever wanted but couldn’t afford, go and get it. I want you to be happy here.”
“I am,” I whisper. “I don’t need stuff, I just need you.”
“Hearing that means more to me than you could ever know. Shit,” he says, glancing at the alarm clock. “I’ve really got to make a move. I’ll see you later. Have a good day.” Leaning forward, he replaces his fingers with his lips and kisses me until I’m desperate to pull him down on top of me. He doesn’t allow it though, and after rearranging himself in his pants he walks over towards the door. “Don’t let my sister get you into any trouble,” he calls over, just before leaving my sight.
“I’ll do my best.” I can’t help but smile as I listen to his deep laughs as he descends the stairs.
Sitting up and leaning back against the headboard, I once again take in the vast room around me. This room, just like every other in this house, is white. In contrast, all the furniture is black. I like the modern look but I can’t help but feel it needs a woman’s touch to make it feel a little more homely. Other than those few photographs I was looking at last night, there are no sentimental items anywhere. Focusing on the stark walls and the plain sheets I’m covered in, I soon decide that I might spend just a little bit of money today. He keeps reassuring me that this house is now ours, so I need to put just a little bit of me inside it.
Mentally writing a list of things I want to look for, I pull the covers back and walk through the dressing room towards the en suite. After spending an obscene amount of time in the walk-in shower, which is about a million years away from the pathetic thing Ireland and I shared in Vegas, I find myself wrapped in a giant fluffy towel—white, of course—staring at the rows and rows of wardrobes in front of me. Harrison has assured me that everything I could need is here, but I’m yet to see what that entails.
Pulling the first three doors open, all I find are his suits. He has every shade of grey, black and blue there is, all lined up in color order. I laugh to myself at his obsessive traits before turning to the next door. I sigh when for the first time this morning I see color—yes, it’s still perfectly arranged like a rainbow, but in front of me are hangers full of bright and colorful women’s clothes. Pulling the first item from the rail, I stare down at the stunning pink summer dress with spaghetti straps. Turning it around, I notice it still has the tag on, and as I stare down at the price, I balk. “Jesus,” I mutter to myself before putting it back and searching through everything else, mentally tallying up the cost of just this one wardrobe in front of me.
Moving over to the next set of doors, I find shelves and shelves of shoes and purses. I don’t even bother looking for price tags on those, I can already see from the designer labels and red soles that they are extortionate. Coming to a set of drawers, I gingerly pull one open at a time, already predicting what I’m going to find. He’s already warned me about his penchant for fancy lingerie. Once again, perfectly arranged, is an array of stunning lace underwear lined up ready for me to select. There’s not a pair of cotton panties in sight.
Deciding that I’m not ready to dive head first into Harrison’s lavish world, I pull out a pair of denim shorts, a tank and one of the few pairs of sneakers amongst the flashy heels. I pull them on over a simple black lace underwear set, and by some miracle, everything fits perfectly. Harrison is a little too good at this.
Heading back to the bathroom and rummaging through the cupboards, I find one dedicated to me. There are fancy bottles and potions, all with names on I’ve never heard of before. But I make the most of what I find and in only a few minutes I have my hair dried and curled and just a hint of makeup on.
As I stare in the mirror, I still look like me, but I look like a much happier and carefree version of myself that I don’t think has ever been reflected. I’m still not sure how I feel about suddenly having half of whatever Harrison has, but having the weight of my financial worries taken away sure does look good on me—that and the tan from Greece.
Walking out of the room and towards the office, I once again glance at the two doors Harrison said were storage. Feeling nosey, I walk over to the first one and grab the handle. I press it down and go to push, but nothing happens. It’s only then I notice a keyhole. It’s locked. Trying the next one, I find the same thing. Why would he need to lock them if there’s just furniture inside?
Vowing to question him about it later, I continue down the hallway, hoping I’ll find what I need.
Pulling open each desk drawer I rummage through looking for a tape measure. I can’t help but smile to myself when I realise I’ve found the only part of the house that seems to be a mess. Pushing the pens, paperclips and batteries aside my fingers land on a set of keys. My mind immediately goes to the two locked doors I was just stood at. I’m desperate to see inside but as I hold the cool metal I know I shouldn’t. I need to trust him. If he tells me they’re storage rooms then I need to take his word for it.
Eventually, I find what I came for and after getting all the measurements I think I’ll need I head towards the kitchen.
It takes me a good few minutes to find the cupboard with the mugs, then even longer to figure out how to get the coffee machine working. Thankfully the doorbell sounds out throughout the house, putting an end to my frustration.
Nerves race through me at the thought of spending the day with Danni. She seemed lovely last night and I really hope we’re going to get on okay. I really could use a friend here.
“Morning. Everything okay?” she asks the second I pull the door open.
“Yeah, I just can’t get the damn coffee machine to work.”
