Yours,

Ivan xx

P.S. You are stunning in your sleep. I might have snapped a pic or five. All very tasteful though! Hope you aren’t too steamed with me. Couldn’t help myself—

The note he’d left for me on the pillow was written on heavy cream stationary emblazoned with a heraldic shield and engraved in black traditional font at the top:

Ivan G. Everley

Lord Rothvale XIII

Donadea, County Down, Ulster

I couldn’t help studying his writing for any clues he might give me about his personality—about himself. I don’t know why, it was just Ivan’s own handwriting set down on paper with words of communication for me from him, but it was important to learn it and to know it for some reason. Writing was personal and intimate when carefully put down with ink onto paper. It took time and consideration in a much different way than quickly tapping out a text on a keypad. I traced over the masculine scrawl of his note with my finger. He took pictures of me when I was sleeping. The involuntary and extremely erotic shiver that came over me suddenly and with immense power almost felt like a mini orgasm. Imagining Ivan standing over me with a camera taking voyeuristic shots while I slept peacefully in his bed was... quite a wonderful feeling to wake up to. I’d never been left a morning-after note by anyone before. This was one I’d be keeping for my scrapbook.

And hallelujah on the highest, my things had arrived from Hallborough. I now had clothes, my reading glasses, phone, ID, and my wallet. Man, you don’t realize how important those few things are until you don’t have them. My identity reduced to a bag of essential items. But this was good news. I did have my necessities now, and Ivan was right, I should have a look inside the chapel to check it out. He seemed to think it would be a great staging area for the paintings and I couldn’t help feeling excited about the idea of having an ancient stone church for an “office.” Who wouldn’t?

As I headed into the bathroom for a shower, I realized the time was now for me to start making a semblance of a plan on how to tackle my amazing and thrilling new job.

Pinch me, please, because this has got to be a dream, right?

Unpacking my suitcase was like a little treasure hunt in itself. I hung up my things in the wardrobe and folded the small pieces into the drawers. I’d take my bag back empty to London with me so I could bring more clothes to keep here when we returned next Thursday afternoon. I’d basically be living at Donadea for more days during the week than I would in London, so I’d need more choices than just a weekend’s worth of clothes kept here.

Once my clothes were put away, I took my makeup and toiletries case into the bathroom to unpack. It was going to feel so good to have my face on properly again and the tools for styling my hair. But laying innocently on the bottom of my cosmetic tote was something important I’d forgotten about. My antibiotics.