Die for You

Chapter 19

Morning came far too fast as my phone chirped out it's fuck awful alarm at 7 AM. Begrudgingly, I picked it up and turned it off, stretching and rubbing my eyes.

Yawning noisily, I headed into the bathroom, pulling on the conveniently hung robe and sorted myself out as quickly as I could.

The lure of the pool was calling and I was anxious for the peace and quiet it would give me to ease my still racing mind. I didn't get my peace, because as I left the bathroom, I found, sitting cross-legged on the bed like a red-headed fucking pixie, is a grinning Rebecca Armstrong.

"Morning, Freen," she said brightly, far too brightly for someone who seemed to have knocked back enough booze to float a warship last night.

"Good morning, "I replied, picking up my swimsuit and towel. "Can I help you?"

"You can. It's time for my morning run and seeing as you're supposed to be protecting me, that means it's time for your morning run too"

I glared at her, and held up my swimsuit for her to see. "I was about to hit the pool. I don't really enjoy running."

"You can hit the pool after the run, I normally do. Come on, a quick few miles around the grounds, it'll build up an appetite for breakfast."

I sat down on the bed, resigned to my fate. 

"I should go and, erm, get warmed up." she said turning away quickly as I dropped my robe to the floor and pulled on my running gear. 

I could feel her burning embarrassment as I changed, obviously not leaving to get warmed up as she said she would, but instead feeling her eyes flick to me as I struggled with my clothes; taking little glances at me when she thought I wasn't looking.

"Problem, Miss Armstrong?" I teased as I pulled on my hooded top over my newly purchased sports bra and laced up my fucking expensive running shoes; another 'essential piece of work wear' as James had put it. I didn't feel quite so guilty about charging them to the company now. 

I was using them on works time on his instructions after all.

"None, Miss Sarocha," she replied, her voice guarded. "Apart from the fact that you promised to call me Becky."

"I said I'd consider it. I never said I'd do it."

"Oh." she said, chastened as I stood up, "and you never wore the dress I left you last night either."

"It wasn't really my cut Mis... Becky. I don't really do backless or flowing gowns. They're just not me. Besides, as I said, I was working last night. I needed to wear something a bit more practical just in case." I said finally finishing adjusting my trainers and tying my laces; trying to turn the subject away from last night. 

"I'm ready when you are."

"I'll grab my swimming stuff then," she said, "there's a hut next to the pool. We can get changed down there after the run. It'll save wandering back and forth through the house."

She slipped out of the room for a second before returning holding a bag. I stuffed my towel and my suit into my holdall and followed her as she unlocked my door and headed downstairs.

We stretched out next to the large outdoor pool where she had placed our bags in a substantial, chalet styled, hut containing a large spa pool and what I assumed was an outdoor sauna; nothing but the best for the Armstrongs, I guess. 

After ten minutes of gentle warming up, she started jogging on the spot.

"Come on, Freen, you ready?"

"I'm ready," I replied, trying to hide my unease," but you may have to go easy on me. It's been a while since I actually pounded the pavements properly. I'm probably a little out of condition."