Page 123

“Of course you’ll be able to leave the house, Mrs. Stryker. I just thought you might not want to be bothered with such mundane shopping.”
I feel my cheeks heat. Does Cora even know my situation? If not, I must sound crazy to her.
“Your makeup and other things you had at the house were packed up earlier today and are in those drawers. You’ll find bubble baths, bath bombs, and bath milks under the sink along with some candles. I’ll help you get out of that dress and then leave you to take a bath.”
It’s clear to me that Cora has her instructions and won’t be deterred from them. I follow her back into the dressing room and take one last look at the Dior gown in the full-length mirror. It’s such a shame for a dress like this to only be worn once. Without the train attached it looks like a formal evening gown, so maybe I’ll have the chance to wear it again.
I turn around and Cora deftly unhooks each of the endless row of silk buttons then carefully unzips the dress. She helps me to step out of it and then hangs it on a padded white satin hanger in the closet.
“Will you be needing anything else from me for the night, Ma’am? Perhaps some tea?”
“No, thank you, I think I’m good here.”
I am absolutely not good here, but after the horrified look she gave me over the insinuation that Aidan was keeping me prisoner in this house, I feel like it’s best for me to keep things light.
When she’s gone, I go back into the bathroom. I don’t cover the window with the curtains, though. I don’t care if someone happens to look up here. Aidan’s men are likely terrified to even glance in this direction. I set out and light candles then fill the tub with water and some jasmine and gardenia bubble bath.
I wonder where Aidan went in such a hurry? The last thing I expected to happen on our arrival was for him to abandon me, but I’m relieved more than anything at the temporary stay of execution. Ever since the reception started to wind down, there have been insistent butterflies jumbling around in my stomach.
I try not to think about the fact that Cora was no doubt directed to order me to bathe. Why? To prepare myself for use by His Majesty, Mr. Stryker?
Ugh. Before today I would have thought “Gross”, but I can’t pretend I don’t find him at least physically attractive. It’s probably better that I do—for my own sake—but I definitely don’t feel safe with him, nor do I have any intention of remaining his captive bride forever.
I’m not going to just forgive the fact that he’s stalked me practically my entire life and forced me to marry him. I try not to think about what else he might force me to do and if it would really be force.
I slam the door in my mind that considers for a single moment that I would willingly fall into bed with this man. After all he’s put me through? Not just recently, but in our childhood.
I wasn’t told to go anywhere or do anything after my bath, so maybe he’s coming for me. A part of me hopes he’ll somehow forget I’m here. Maybe he got called away on Mafia business. I don’t care what anybody says, this guy is mob.
Nearly an hour passes, and I finally drain the water and get out of the tub. When I return to the dressing room wrapped in a towel, there’s a cream-colored bag embossed with a logo I don’t recognize on the chair near the mirrors. The label says Fleur Du Mal. Bad flower. Light pink and cream tissue paper sticks out of the top.
I take the small card out of the envelope.
Put this on and wait.
I swallow around the lump in my throat. It’s Aidan’s handwriting. I remove the tissue from the bag. Inside is a sheer white lacy, well, it’s hard to tell exactly what it is until I put it on. And once the lingerie is on, it’s… still hard to fully explain. There’s a plunge neckline in the front. The top part is a halter style with white silk ribbons that tie around my neck with the ribbons going halfway down my back. It makes me look very much like a gift Aidan intends to unwrap for himself. The bottom part is a very short ruffled flutter of material that barely covers my pussy in the front and my ass in the back.
When I turn in the mirror I can see just how sheer and see-through the entire thing is. I may as well not be wearing anything at all. I think I’d feel less naked if I actually were naked.
It makes me very self-conscious. I go back to the bag. There was something else inside.
I let out a relieved sigh at the white silk robe I find in the bottom of the bag. It’s short, also barely covering my ass, with long flared sleeves. But aside from the shortness of it, it covers the other piece well and makes me feel slightly more dressed. I’ve just tied the sash when I smell that green woody scent wafting into the room.
I spin around to find Aidan standing in the doorway of my dressing room, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the door frame. He’s wearing black boxer briefs and nothing else. There are more tattoos on his chest: a fire-breathing dragon, celtic knotwork designs, and the Immaculate Heart of Mary with light and flames coming out from her. My mouth goes dry and I spot a stray drop of water sliding from his wet hair down over the head of the snake. I want to lick it. And suddenly my mind is associating other things with snakes as I notice the very large bulge in his briefs.
I take in a sharp breath and really hope that it’s not as obvious to Aidan as it feels to me.
He extends a hand. “Come, you’ll sleep in my bed at night.”
I might be about to hyperventilate. When I cross the room and take his hand, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me out of my suite and down the hall to his bedroom. One of the goons outside my door looks at me longer than he should, but the guards outside Aidan’s door look straight ahead. Complete professionals.
One of them opens the door for Aidan, and he carries me inside. Where my room was light and bright and welcoming, Aidan’s looks like a cave or a tomb. Or maybe a dungeon. It’s fully hard and masculine in every detail. There could never be any question that no woman’s delicate design sensibilities has ever touched this space.
A sword hangs on one wall with an intricately carved black hilt. The room is one large open floor plan unlike mine which is divided into sections. He also seems to have a large walk-in closet and probably also a connected bathroom, but there’s no sitting area in this room, though there is sleek black furniture. The walls are dark burgundy. Aidan puts me down, and my feet sink into plush black rugs. It feels like some kind of animal fur beneath my bare feet, and I don’t want to think about whether or not they’re real.
The moonlight shines in through the large glass window and door that leads out onto the balcony.
The room feels chilly, unlike my room. I’m not sure if it’s Aidan’s presence, what I’m wearing, or if his room actually is colder than mine. He notices my shiver and guides me closer to the bed. A fire is lit in the fireplace, and as we move closer to it the room returns to a more comfortable temperature.