Just like Jewel said, her suitcase had already been unpacked. Someone had put away all her clothes in the walk-in closet. Quickly, she grabbed her pajamas and headed for the bathroom, which was also entirely pale green. She ran a hand along the edge of the deep bowl sink with a chrome faucet. Smiled at herself in the wide mirror above it—and laughed at the double image of the reflection in the vanity behind her, its top covered with makeup and skin care products as if it had robbed a department store counter. In the nook parallel to her, a giant bathtub had been built under a window and lined with candles in ornate candelabras. Next to it, the triangular-shaped shower with glass doors and an incredible number of showerheads called her name.

Luna didn’t know it was possible to be in love with a room—loved it so much, she couldn’t even remember to feel jealous. The bathroom alone was bigger than her bedroom in Tasha’s house.

Her toiletry bag waited for her on the sink, right in front of a small basket with complimentary toiletries like at a hotel, and another basket of mint-colored towels. While brushing her teeth she wandered to the window beside the vanity behind her. She had a perfect view of the breathtaking backyard—the open grassy field morphing into small rolling hills before hitting the edge of the forest.

Grainy, slightly out-of-focus pictures online had nothing on seeing it in person.

It honestly looked like a scene from one of the classic historical romance movies Tasha liked. Luna could imagine it—two people running toward the hedge maze, and each other, for a perfectly secret moonlight tryst. Just enough shadows to keep them safe. Just enough light to lead the way. Her heart filled with longing and hope for her imaginary couple.

A man was staring up at her window.

Luna gasped, accidentally swallowing foamy toothpaste. Her feet moved faster than her brain, and she tripped, crashing onto the floor with a solid thud. “Ow,” she moaned in between coughs to clear her throat. Still coughing, she hauled herself up to the sink to spit and rinse her mouth.

Who the hell was that? Luna grabbed a towel—the shoulder she landed on throbbed in pain—and wiped her mouth as she inched toward the window.

Somewhere way in the back of the reasonable part of her brain, she knew going for a second look wasn’t a good idea. But she wanted to see him again! It wasn’t like he could do anything from down there. She was on the third floor, safe and sound.

Unless he had a gun. Were the security people armed? Surely, Jewel would have mentioned that.