“Angelica, I don’t know what to say, except that I’m grateful and I’m equally sorry that I put you through all that earlier.”
“You were doing what you felt needed to be done.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, so, what happens next? Although to be honest I wouldn’t turn down a meal. I’m starved.” This was the first time in the past week she’d actually had an appetite.
“I’ll have my housekeeper send up some homemade soup. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
He moved past her, heading in the direction of the door. “Your measurements were taken while you were imprisoned. Starlin always provides an initial wardrobe for the auctioned women, including makeup and all kinds of lotions and hair care products. By now my servants will have unpacked everything for you.”
He led her to his bathroom, which proved large enough to roller-skate in. White marble covered the floors, walls, ceiling, and a long vanity area. Two sinks had gold fixtures. Given all that she saw, she had no reason to doubt the gold was real.
She followed him as he moved into what proved to be a large closet with a dressing area and a full-length mirror. Most of the space was empty except for a row of barely-there garments that made use of leather and sequins, feathers and chains, and a variety of sheer fabrics.
Reyes went through them, sliding the hangers along the rod in quick swipes, his expression as grim as ever.
He chose the red costume that seemed to have the most fabric, and that wasn’t saying much. From a row of shoes, he picked up a pair of matching red sequined pumps with five-inch stilettos. “These will have to do. I’ll apologize now, but the truth is I’m going to hate everyone staring at you.”
She glanced at him and realized there was a hint of jealousy in his tone, but she didn’t say anything. As at the auction, once again, most of her body would be on display no matter which outfit he chose.
He took the costume and hung it back up, putting the shoes back on the rack. “While Mathilde prepares a tray for you, why don’t you have a bath?”
She glanced at the soaking tub and nodded. “I’d really like that.”
“I’ll leave you alone, then.”
He left the room and she immediately turned on the waterfall-filling feature and poured in some bubble bath. As the tub filled she hunted through the drawers and found that he’d described things exactly right: she had more cosmetics, lotions, powders, oils, and hairstyling implements than she could use in a decade. After finding a brush she took her time getting rid of the tangles, then pinned her hair up off her neck.
The bubbles were a beautiful mound when she returned to the tub. She let her robe fall to the floor and climbed in.
For the first time in a week, her body relaxed. She sank to her neck, closed her eyes, and let out a deep, shuddering breath. For the moment, she was safe, and if all went well she’d be home by morning.
After she’d soaked for a few minutes, Reyes knocked and asked if he could come in: her meal was ready.
Relief once more rolled through her. She was no longer a slave, but had the simple right of granting or refusing permission for anyone to enter a bathroom. With bubbles covering her head-to-foot, she thought it could do no harm. “Come in.”
His brows rose as he saw her. “Better?”
“A little. Yes. Thank you.” She felt nervous suddenly. He’d already seen her completely naked, yet somehow this felt more intimate.
He held the tray cradled in one arm, and opened the door the rest of the way with his free hand. She watched him set the tray on a chair, then adjust a nearby rolling table to bathtub height. When he had the height to his satisfaction, and poised over her chest, he placed the tray on top.
The soup smelled heavenly, and her stomach growled. He’d provided a small glass of red wine as well. He said nothing as he left the room.
She scooted up to a better sitting position and pulled the table closer.
The soup proved to be a flavorful lentil, and each spoonful tasted like heaven. For the first time in a week, she ate without the fear of having one of her captors show up and start demanding things.
And by all appearances, Reyes intended to honor her basic boundaries.
Without warning, her mind slipped back to the moment when Reyes was drinking from her throat, the absolute bliss of it and the attending sexual need. Now that she understood him and his purpose, a powerful wave of desire swept through her once more, despite all that she’d been through.
After months of fantasizing about the man, how strange to think that he wasn’t a man at all—or at least not a human male. He was a vampire, from a secret world that most of the human population knew nothing about.
With her meal consumed, and her skin starting to wrinkle, she finally left the tub and started getting ready for the after-auction party. She went into the closet and found a clean robe to replace the one she’d worn earlier, this one a beautiful jade silk. She returned to the vanity area and the overstocked makeup drawer.
She sat on the cushy stool and debated how to do her makeup. In the end, for her own sanity, she chose to keep it simple. Despite the revealing nature of the costume, being able to select it herself gave her a sense of control.
Maybe she would have to parade around in a sequined outfit that barely covered her ni**les and didn’t cover her ass at all, but she wouldn’t do up her eyes like they had for the auction, with false eyelashes that looked like a pair of small black fans.
Having wept off most of her makeup earlier, she added back a little gray eye shadow, a thin line of eyeliner, some mascara, and just a hint of blush.
As for her hair, she took some time with a curling iron, then arranged it all in soft layers the way she usually wore it. She finally worked herself into the minuscule, snug red costume, then stepped into the sequined stilettos and headed to the sitting room.
Time to start playing her new role.
Reyes sat in a brown leather chair, opposite the bedroom. He sipped a different scotch this time, a Bowmore ‘64. He’d acquired the taste for fine whiskey during his captivity, Sweet Dove having been as generous as she was sadistic, a real f**king paradox.
He swirled the amber liquid, sipped, savored.
He still felt guilty that he hadn’t done a better job at warning Angelica away from the Ocean Club sooner, but he couldn’t change the past. He also knew he’d made the right decision by telling her about his mission.
He’d get her home as soon as he could, but she’d only truly be safe if he took the Starlin Group down. He heard the door to the bathroom open and the sound of her heels on the hardwood floors.