“I have a proposition for you,” Sam answered, his hand moving soothingly up and down her back.
“What?” Pushing on his chest, she glanced up at him curiously.
“We can talk about it at breakfast. I’m starving,” he answered casually.
“No. I need to shower and get to the clinic. Shit! I don’t have any clothes here. I’ll have to wear the same scrubs and-”
“You’ll find everything you need in the master bath. I had my personal assistant pick up some things for you.” He moved back and motioned toward a door on the other side of bedroom. “I’ll use the other bathroom and meet you in the kitchen.”
“I told you I have to go. I have appointments today,” she answered stubbornly, walking across the bedroom toward the bathroom.
“Actually, you don’t,” he answered as he yanked clothing from his closet.
“I have a full schedule until the wedding rehearsal,” she informed him indignantly. Really, did he think she was so out of it that she had forgotten her appointments?
“You don’t. Your clinic is being covered by another doctor for a while. With the help of a few nurses.” He imparted that information as he reached for the handle of the bedroom door.
“What? How? Why?” Maddie knew she was babbling, but she didn’t have a clue what he was saying.
He opened the door and turned, his expression dark, his eyes turbulent. “It was done on my orders, my arrangement.”
“You can’t just take over my clinic, Hudson. Or my life for that matter,” she snapped at him, furious.
“Somebody needs to and I just did, Sunshine. And that’s just the beginning. Meet me downstairs.” He turned and left, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him.
Maddie was fuming as she entered the bathroom, tempted to chase Sam’s ass down and tell him off. But she needed to prepare herself. He had her so angry right now that she wouldn’t be at all effective at shooting him down in her current mood.
Who the hell was running her clinic? Were they taking good care of the people there? Dammit!
She stripped out of her scrubs and underwear, folding them together in a bundle to take with her when she left, which she planned on doing immediately after she dealt with Sam Hudson.
It took her a moment to figure out how to use the fancy shower he had, one which had several showerheads that pulsated hot water over every muscle in her body, a decadent pleasure that made her bite back a moan as she washed her hair and scrubbed her body. Not at all surprised that he had female shower gel and shampoo in his shower, Maddie tried not to think about the gazillion women who had probably done more than just showered with Sam in this room, in this enclosure. Turning the shower off, she reached for a fluffy towel, patting her body dry and applying some lotion from the array of feminine toiletries aligning the cupboards. Clothing was piled on every surface, women’s clothing. And every item still had the tags on them. Come to think of it, everything she had opened was brand new, including the shampoo and conditioner she’d used. Checking the size on a pair of jeans, she noticed that they were her size, as were all the clothes, every item a petite length. Even the new undergarments were her size - except none of the stuff was exactly her style. The underwear was decadent, wisps of silk and lace. The jeans were hip huggers; slimmer cut than she usually wore, cupping her curves and ass tightly when she slipped them on. Ignoring the image in the glass mirrors, she pulled a shirt over her head. It was a tee, but it was short and fit snugly over her breasts.
Oh, to hell with it. I’m changing at the clinic anyway.
She tamed her wild hair with a never-used hairbrush that she had to pull from the package.
No hair clips.
Scrounging through all the new lotions, gels, hairspray and other assorted items, she found absolutely nothing to secure her riot of curls. With all of the attention Sam had paid to detail, Maddie knew it was intentional. He had never liked her hair pulled back.
Opening one of the medicine cabinets, she smiled evilly, yanking out a package of condoms.
Extra-Large.
Maddie would like to think that Sam having these was a case of wishful thinking, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d felt that erection against her enough times to know he was built big.
Pulling one from the wrapping, she ripped off the top ring and trashed the rest of it in the garbage.
Perfect.
The band was stretchy enough to hold back her mass of curls in a ponytail at her neck.
Now all she needed was coffee and she’d feel human again. Grabbing her shoes from the side of the bed, she trotted down the stairs, having no idea where the kitchen was located. When she got to the bottom of the steps, she looked around, admiring the high cathedral ceiling and the light décor; the color scheme seemed to make everything seem lighter, more airy and cheerful.