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CHAPTER 11

          Instead, Addison had let her hair dry naturally as she’d taken her time dressing, and now it hung in dark waves down her back. She’d found a pair of white denim jeans in one closet, much snugger than she liked, which was only to be expected given the gazelle-like proportions of most of his usual female guests, and a lovely palazzo top in a vibrant blue-and-white pattern in another, which was loose and flowy and balanced out the jeans.

          She had tossed on a slate-gray wrap to guard against the sea air now that evening was upon them and the temperature had dropped and had left her feet and her face entirely bare.

          Miss Bryant disappeared leaving her place to Addison. She looked like… herself. At last. Yet Andrey stared at her as if she were a ghost.

“Is this another version of thr

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