Falling In Book Read Online Lydia Michaels (Surrender Trilogy #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Drama, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Surrender Trilogy Series by Lydia Michaels
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
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It was wisest to think in matters of moving on. Mr. Patras was, in some odd way, attracted to her, but once he figured out how inexperienced she was with men he’d likely send her packing. She needed to go into this with a plan. Even if it only lasted a day, there was no way she was leaving empty-handed.

For a moment Scout allowed herself to fantasize about the bathtubs in the hotel. He’d said he’d arrange for her to have a room. One time she sat on the edge of a hotel bed after suffering a dizzy spell from not eating enough, and she was amazed at how soft and plush the mattress was.

If Mr. Patras actually did as he said and put her up in a room for a night, chances were she’d never want to leave. Scout wanted to know what it felt like to bathe in one of those grand tubs with the jets and use those fancy bath salts housekeeping left on the vanities for guests.

“You’re here early.”

She jumped as Tamara headed in her direction. Stowing her file in the pocket of her apron, she stood. “I couldn’t sleep so I came in early.”

Her eyes crinkled warmly. “Give me a minute to put down my stuff and start the coffee and I’ll give you your schedule.”

Scout waited by her office door as Tamara stowed her bag under her desk and hung her coat on a hook behind the door. It was a nice coat. Warm-looking and thick wool in a lovely royal blue. Tamara always had nice clothing. She wore something different every time Scout saw her.

“Okay,” she said as she rolled her chair closer to her desk and pulled out a stack of papers. “It looks like today you have fifteen penthouses.”

She handed Scout the slip of paper.

Scout frowned. “What about the master suites?”

“Mr. Patras didn’t put in for housekeeping today. He usually only requests the maid services once a week. It was odd he asked for his suites to be cleaned two days in a row, but if there’s one thing I know about him it’s that he’s eccentric. No use trying to figure him out. Hey, are you feeling better?”

Scout’s head tilted in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“You left early yesterday. I assumed you weren’t feeling well.”

Her face flushed with embarrassment. Damn meddling hotel owner.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I had an unsettling lunch.” Not a lie.

“Oh, good, I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious. With flu season coming up you can never be too sure. That reminds me. Here’s my cell number. If you’re ever sick, call there or text so I know before I get here. That way I won’t be scrambling to find someone to cover your rooms.”

Tamara slid her a glossy white business card, and Scout slipped it into her pocket. She didn’t know how to text and didn’t have a cell phone to text on, but there was a pay phone at St. Christopher’s if she ever needed to reach her boss.

Leaving the GM’s office, she passed the other maids coming in. Ignoring her disappointment that Mr. Patras had had a change of heart, she focused on her work. She’d just have to stick to her original plan. Work hard, make money, eventually have the means to afford her own apartment and get Pearl off the streets.

The pinch of regret hurt more than she’d expected. She should’ve agreed yesterday, while the offer was still on the table. All her anxiety about being intimate with him and her stupid, stubborn pride had wound up screwing her out of opportunities she’d likely never come across again in her lifetime.

Her original plan seemed to have lost a bit of its luster since she’d been offered a much faster solution. But that was no longer an option. She should be feeling like she’d made a lucky escape. She should have known better. Nothing was ever easy. She was a fool to assume a man like that could actually want her.

Scout pulled her cart off the elevator and onto the thirtieth floor, ignoring the unsettling feeling filling her belly as she passed the private bank of elevators to the master suites above. Focusing on her tasks for the day, she threw herself into dusting the banisters of the common areas and polishing the furniture at each sitting area until her reflection showed in the cherry finish.

By eight, guests had begun heading out for the day or simply traveling down to the restaurant for breakfast, and she started on cleaning the suites.

Just before noon someone called her name. “Scout? Are you in there?”

She turned and found a flushed Tamara looking for her. She was out of breath.

“Tamara? Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” she panted and wedged her fist into the side of her nipped blazer. “Sorry. Cramp. Mr. Patras called. He expected you to tend to his suites first thing this morning. He must’ve forgotten to call it in. I need you to go up there right away.”



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