Chapter 12
Chase stretched, slowly waking to the soft light of the early morning peeking through the automatic blinds on her windows. A rough sensation, almost like sand, greeted her leg as she moved it along the sheet.
“What the hell?” She sat up, testing the sensation once more. She threw back the covers and stared at her luxurious Frette sheets, only to find the fabric pilling into tiny balls and wearing a faded spot into the space where she lay.
Her stomach tightened. The sheets she’d chosen were no lightweight expense. Frette sheets were the linens of royalty dating back to the late 1800s. The exact reason she’d chosen them. What better luxury while in Ferrara than resting on the fabric of kings? Or so she’d thought.
This could not be what her patrons woke up to. They’d never come
