I lingered in the bathtub not to savor the romance of our first night, but because of one problem:
There was no towel.
More precisely, the towel warmer on the wall was empty. Completely bare, staring back at me, almost taunting, as if to say, “Good luck, darling.”
I froze, scanning the room for a spare. Nothing.
Okay, I could manage this. All I needed was to... wait for Hugo to leave the room. Or, more drastic, shout for Holly to toss a towel in through the back window.
Or... I could sneak out. Quickly. In the nude.
“Impossible...” I muttered, half-scolding myself.
Reluctantly, I stood and crept to the wooden door and knocked softly.
“Hugo!” I called, a hint of desperation in my voice. “Where’s the towel?”
A pause. Then slow footsteps. When his voice finally came through, calm and infuriating, I nearly rolled my eyes.
“Will my new wife grant me permission to deliver it personally?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just leave it outside, you infuriating man!”
“Are you sure? This is such a cinematic m
