She’d only gotten about four hours of sleep before her alarm had rudely awakened her and forced her back into the land of the living. Gulping down her third cup of coffee since reaching the office, Lily sat at her desk and prayed she would be able to hold her composure when Nigel stepped off the elevator. After saying good-night and slipping into her apartment, she’d gone to the bedroom and changed into a pair of simple cotton pajamas, then returned to the living room with all of the printouts and information she’d managed to sneak out of Ashdown Abbey earlier. Her movements had been so calm and deliberate. Robotic. Because underneath it all, she was a beehive of confusing thoughts and conflicting emotions. She was not in Los Angeles to have her hormones go haywire just because she was in close proximity to a handsome, charming Brit. He was supposed to be her enemy, for heaven’s sake.
