Miss White and the Seventh Heir

Walking up the flight of steps took considerable effort. She stifled a yawn. She really needed some sleep. She’d be able to think more clearly in the morning. Her head hung low. Right now, she just had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

At the landing, she bumped right into Trey. Only an inch or two apart, she lifted her head. His brown eyes searched hers. Her heart slammed into her throat, blocking her next breath. If she were to lift up on tiptoes and he were to lower his head, their lips would meet. And at long last, she would know if his kisses were as hot as she imagined.

After all, this was the French Riviera. She couldn’t think of a more romantic spot on earth to give in to her fantasy. The pounding of her heart drowned out all of the reasons that this was a bad idea. Maybe Louise was right. Maybe she needed more in her life than work.

And then Trey turned away. He cleared his throat. “There are four rooms to the left and four rooms to your right. Pick whichever one suits you.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Trey didn’t say anything for a moment as though he were lost in his thoughts.

“Trey, what is it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing that can’t wait until the morning.”

“Are you sure?”

He sent her a smile and nodded.

She started down the wide hallway and stepped in the first bedroom. It was decorated in reds and whites. A large bed sat in the middle of the room with a white comforter and matching pillows. She moved to the bed and sat down. She immediately sunk into the mattress. Wow. Talk about a soft mattress. Not exactly her idea of comfort.

The next room held black and white decor with a red accent. The room was beautiful, but the bed was the exact opposite of the other room. When she sat on the edge, the mattress barely moved.

She caught the amusement in Trey’s eyes as she made her way through the rooms.

“Are you just going to follow me around and smile?” She frowned at him.

“I’m just wondering if any of the rooms are going to be up to your standard.”

“I’m not normally a picky person.”

He nodded, but his eyes said that he didn’t believe her.

“I’m not,” she insisted as she entered the last bedroom.

She came to a sudden halt. This room was different from the others. There was no striking decor. No fancy pillows or remarkable paintings on the walls. This room, for the lack of a better word, was plain. While one wall was brick like much of the house, the other walls were a smooth plaster in a warm cream color. And the artwork on the walls were photos of different French landscapes.

A large oriental rug stretched out over the hardwood floor and extended under the king-size bed. The bed faced a set of French doors that were slightly ajar, letting in the fresh sea air. And overhead were exposed beams running the length of the ceiling. She never would have put this room in the same group as the others as its atmosphere was so different—so relaxed.

But the telling sign was in the mattress. She walked over to the bed and sat down. It wasn’t too soft or too hard. It was perfect.

She smiled. “This is it.”

Trey’s brow arched. “Are you sure? This ro

om isn’t as nice as the other ones.”

“That’s one of the things I like about it. And the bed is perfect.” Then realizing that he might have been planning to stay here, she said, “Unless you were planning to sleep here.”

“No.” He said it rather quickly. “I’ll just grab your things.”

“I can get them.”

He shook his head. “Tonight you’re my guest.”

She was so tired that she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. If he was that anxious to carry all her suitcases upstairs, more power to him.

In the meantime, she’d just lean back on the bed and rest for a moment. It had been such a long, long day or was it two days now? She wasn’t sure with the long layovers and the time change.