Chapter Thirteen
I opened an eye. For a second, I couldn’t think where I was. Certainly the Route 66 Motel didn’t have sheets with a thread count so high they felt like silk against my naked skin, or windows that opened out onto a foggy beachside morning.
Oh, right. Fairmont.
Holding a wad of sheets and down comforter against my bare torso, I sat up. Paul was nowhere to be seen, but the sound of running water and a somewhat off-key baritone from the vicinity of the bathroom told me he hadn’t gone very far.
A determined search turned up my panties from under the foot of the bed, while my other clothes, including my bra, had somehow gotten strewn across one of the armchairs. I didn’t bother with anything except the panties, and went to retrieve one of the terrycloth robes from the closet
