Page 48 of Omega's Reluctant Mate
The room was stunning, with high ceilings and a monochromatic color scheme. Little details hinted at the history of the house, but had been seamlessly integrated into the modern aesthetic.
It was as I was looking around that my eyes landed on a clock. It was nearly four in the afternoon. I wondered how Nate’s business meeting was going, and how long until he would arrive.
Finally I got out of bed and made my way to the en suite, where some of the fluffiest towels I had ever seen were stacked next to a shower that dwarfed my entire bathroom.
I sniffed myself, and decided that between the plane, shelter smells, and everyday sweat and grime from walking dogs, a shower was an excellent idea.
Even the feel of the water against my skin was decadent, probably because of whatever fancy showerhead they’d installed. By the time I wrapped one of the towels around me I felt human again.
I walked back into the bedroom, picked out an outfit, and dressed. Then I realized I’d forgotten to pack a plastic bag for the dirty laundry.
I walked out into the hallway, and down a flight of stairs to see the house manager—a stern older man by the name of Henri, if I recalled—arranging a vase of flowers near the door.
“Monsieur Eaves,” he said with a nod. “How do you find your accommodations?”
“Stunning, thanks,” I replied, unsure what was the proper answer. “Um… do you have a plastic bag? Maybe a garbage liner?”
One of his eyebrows went up. “Shall I send up a maid?”
I raised my hands and waved them in a ‘no!’ manner. “Not that. I just… um…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I forgot to pack a bag for my dirty laundry. I like to keep it separate in my luggage.”
He stared at me for a long moment, and I wondered what faux pas I had just committed, when he chuckled. “There is a basket inside the door of your suite. You may place anything to be laundered in it and it will be taken care of.”
“That’s not necessary,” I protested. “I’m used to taking my dirties home.”
One of his eyebrows went up. “Laundry will be washed regardless of whether yours is included or not, monsieur. It is only prudent to avail yourself of the service.”
“Umm… I guess I’ll put my dirties in the basket then.”
He nodded, the conversation apparently over.
“Wait,” I said as he began to walk off to attend whatever of his duties was next on his list. “I’ve never been to London before. What is there to do around here?”
“What did you have in mind? Shopping? Theater?”
I shook my head. “I’d like to stay close so that I can return quickly when Nate arrives. Is there a nice place to walk maybe?”
He cocked his head. “Are the palace gardens not nice enough?”
“What?”
His nose crinkled slightly, and I wondered what I’d done that time. “Ah, you did mention that this is your first time. The Kensington Gardens are just down the street. There you will find ample walking trails. Shall I arrange a security detail?”
“A what?”
“Security?” he repeated.
“Are the gardens dangerous?”
“Absolutely not. But it is a standard precaution.”
“Oh, um… no. I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m not important enough for that.”
“As you wish. Monsieur Starling mentioned that your phone might not work here, so we had one delivered. I’ve taken the liberty of programming the flat number into it.”
“Thank you,” I replied as he motioned to the phone, which was next to the vase of flowers.
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Shall I have the chef prepare a late lunch before you depart for your walk?”
