online orders tended to take longer. The prospect of going to town had her stomach in knots. She hated leaving. Hated being out in public. She always felt at risk…
And visible.
She even did her clothing and cosmetic shopping online. Books, movies, music, all the things she needed were delivered right to her doorstep or straight to her tablet. She enjoyed the isolation—venturing out to the closest town once a week—and liked having only a few trusted people in her life. It kept things uncomplicated.
Safe.
Charity prided herself in anticipating what Mr. Hollingsworth and his family would need before they even realized it themselves, and she knew him well enough by now to predict what food he would want and what personal toiletries he would require—she even knew what brand of condom he favored. It was her job to make his stay pleasant and stress free and, as he had been ill, it was more imperative than ever to ensure this particular visit was smooth and problem free.
She put down the pen and rolled her neck, trying to keep her growing headache at bay. No point in even attempting to get any more sleep tonight. There was way too much to do.
The thundering rain woke him.
Miles opened his eyes and was momentarily confused by his gloomy surroundings. His body clock told him it was later than it appeared and a glance at the bedside clock confirmed that it was nearly eleven in the morning. It felt earlier because of the miserable weather. He sat up and disentangled himself from the bunched-up duvet, a silent testament to his restless sleep.
He made his way over to the glass doors that led into his private corner of the extensive garden. A glance out confirmed it was coming down in sheets. And an ominous roll of thunder in the distance told him that the weather would last for a while. The verdant garden was a dramatic counterpoint to the grim weather. But that was the beauty of the Garden Route; because of the rain it was usually lush and green in winter. Rain had been scarce over the last few years, but from what he had heard, this winter had seen welcome relief from the drought.
He turned away from the view and went to the spacious walk-in closet. He was gratified to note that his closet was stocked with clothes from his last stay as he didn’t feel like rummaging through his suitcase for something to wear. Mrs. Cole would undoubtedly unpack everything for him later. He grabbed some stuff, tossed it onto the rumpled bed, and went to the bathroom. He needed a long, hot shower to clear the remaining cobwebs from his head.
He was so tired, a bone-grinding weariness that made it hard for him to focus on anything for too long. It was that, in addition to his mother’s and sister’s insistence, which had made him agree to this enforced rest. He couldn’t do his job effectively without focus. He had nearly lost millions of pounds on a bad investment a couple of weeks ago. It had been an appalling error in judgment, something that would never have happened had he been his normal self.
As he stood beneath the pulsating spray of the shower, he contemplated the sobering reality that—thanks to his bloody stupidity and stubbornness—his life had nearly been snuffed out by a microscopic bug. He inhaled deeply and coughed when he held the aromatic steam of the shower in his damaged lungs for a beat too long.
Damn it.
The doctors had warned him not to rush his recovery. They hadn’t been happy to hear he intended to leave the country and even less happy to learn that he was headed to a cold, damp climate.
Not heeding their advice had landed him in this mess in the first place. He had been so obstinate, so sure he knew his limits better than his healthcare providers. He should probably have learned from his previous mistake and stayed home…or gone someplace warmer. But he liked this place, and because of Mrs. Cole, he knew that he’d be comfortable and allowed to recuperate in peace.
Mrs. Cole with her shapely, mile long legs and that ridiculous length of hair. With her velvety looking skin and her—
Fuck!
He glanced wryly down at his eager—and entirely inappropriate—erection and grimaced. This was crazy. And definitely not what he had in mind for his stay here.
He shook his head, impatient with himself for dwelling over a moment that he sincerely hoped would