She dropped her head against the door, sliding down to the floor until she was sitting in a wet heap in her hallway, still wrapped tightly in the scent of sandalwood, expensive wool, and absolute corporate madness.Jane took a long, scorching shower, washing away the rain, the stress, and the sheer absurdity of her evening.Once dry, she threw on her favorite makeshift nightgown: William’s ruined white-silk shirt.Two years ago, Jane had accidentally spilled blue fountain pen ink straight across his chest. Being a responsible, panic-stricken assistant, she had immediately bought him an exact $2,000 replacement out of her own meager savings. But she couldn't bring herself to throw away the original ruined shirt—it was $2,000 silk, for heaven's sake! So, she repurposed it as a nightshirt. Over two years of washing, the silk had thinned into an impossibly soft, semi-translucent whisper of fabric that barely hit her mid-thigh, hanging off one shoulder and showing every line of her dark
Última actualización : 2026-08-28 Leer más