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I doubt it. I’ve been here with her for weeks and haven’t seen him once.
Bonnie says he’s a plastic surgeon specializing in burns. The best in his field and, in her words, as handsome as he is, unwilling to get married.
He’s the only member of the family I haven’t met yet. Mrs. Marshall’s son, William Marshall III, is around sixty, and Bonnie said he and his son, also named William, just “the Fourth”—God, rich people have this strange habit of numbering their kids—look exactly alike.
If the surgeon is as nice as his father, then my employer’s family is almost perfect. The “almost” is due to the daughter-in-law, who’s unbearable. A queen without a crown. The one time we met, she looked at me as though I were some worm that might contaminate her on contact.
I strip off my clothes and stuff them in the sink. I’ll need to borrow a plastic bag so I don’t dirty the inside of my backpack.
Fortunately, I always bring a spare change of clothes here and to the bar. Bonnie advised me to, and I took her at her word. She once had to stay overnight at the mansion when Mrs. Marshall wasn’t feeling well.
I step under the warm water and moan in delight. I should have said fifteen minutes—I’d love to enjoy this powerful shower a bit longer. I won’t even have time to properly dry my hair.
I reach out to turn off the water but freeze when the door suddenly opens and the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life walks in.
I should scream, tell him to leave, but I just stare at him, almost in a trance, until he suddenly yells, “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my bathroom?”
William
CHAPTER THREE
I tryto keep my anger in check as I stare at the naked woman who doesn’t even try to cover herself.
It takes me ten seconds to take her in from head to toe. I’m a plastic surgeon, and even though reconstruction—not cosmetic perfection—is my specialty, I’ve been with enough partners in my life to know a goddess when I see one. And she’s all-natural, too, because the hair between her legs is the same color as that wet mass of red on her head.
I grab a towel and toss it to her. “Cover yourself. Don’t you people have any shame?”
“What?”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
“My father, the bastard.”
“Why would your father be here with me?” she asks, wrapping the towel tightly around herself and looking at me as though I’m insane.
I’m not buying the innocent act. A woman involved with my father can be many things, but virginal isn’t one of them.
“You’ve got five minutes to get dressed and get out of my grandmother’s house, or I’ll throw you out myself. Maybe I should call the police for trespassing.”
“Trespassing?I only know who you are—or rather, IassumeI know who you are—because you look so much like your father. That’s the only reason I’m not the one calling the police. I know I was wrong to take a shower in the bathroom of the place you use as an office, but it was your grandmother who suggested it.”
“You want me to believe my grandmother told my father’s mistress she could shower in the library of her own house?”
“Your father’s mistress?Not only are you out of your mind, you’re rude too. I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately so I can get dressed.”
I glare at her cynically. “Isn’t it a bit late for modesty? If I hadn’t thrown you the towel, you’d still be naked right now.”
“Look, Mr. William, I need this job badly, but if you don’t give me some privacy right now, I swear on everything sacred I will start screaming. I’m beginning to believe you really are completely insane.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name doesn’t matter at the moment. I just want you to let me get dressed so I can leave this house as quickly as possible.”
She looks genuinely offended, and for the first time, I feel uncertain.
“I’ll wait for you outside.”