Meg instantly drew her knees up to her chest, a feeble attempt at covering herself from his wicked, crawling eyes. She saw the black orbs gleam hungrily and, for the first time Meg could remember, she felt terrified as a young woman and not a metahuman.
Arkdone was walking toward her slowly, pushing up the sleeves of his thin cashmere black sweater. His black jeans hugged him perfectly over his beautiful physique, but Meg knew better. He was a monster inside.
She was visibly shaking curled up fetal position at the furthest corner of the oval bathtub.
“Here, this will be a nice addition,” he said with a drawl as he flicked a switch. First there was a loud rumble then jets burst into life around the tub, causing some helpful bubbles to disguise Meg’s naked body.
With terrifying speed he was on her. Instead of attacking, he reached beside her head for the bottle of pink shampoo. “Strawberries,” he said smiling mischievously. “I’ve heard you like strawberries and stargazer lilies.”
Meg watched with confusion and fear as he squeezed a large amount of the shampoo into his hands. He reached for her and she flinched. “I want to help you, Meg,” seduction dripped off his tongue. Something about his voice had Meg holding her breath, unmoving. He took her stillness as permission and knelt beside the tub, reached out and smoothed the deliciously scented shampoo down the length of her hair. He started at the tips, carefully massaging the cleanser into the locks, which were long enough when wet to reach the small of her back.
His touch was gentle, but searing. Every time his fingers grazed her flesh, she felt marked by his touch. Part of her hated him for the violation of her privacy, but his graceful, careful movements fascinated a small part of her. She caught herself taking only small breaths and forced a slow deep one, for fear she would pass out right there in the water from lack of oxygen.
As though he’d washed a woman’s long hair before, he knew exactly how to collect the sudsy ends and curl them on top of her head to work an even greater lather once all the hair was gathered on top.
Wet, sudsy ringlets escaped his efforts, framing Meg’s wide-eyed innocence beautifully. The small girl mesmerized Arkdone.
So much power and potential in such a small body, he thought as he gently massaged her scalp.
I could crush her skull right here in my hands. But the thought of hurting her made him crazy with anger. Now it was Arkdone’s turn to breathe deeply.
What is she doing to me? He thought suspiciously. After all these years alone, with my work as my mistress, what is this vixen doing to make me soften toward her? He cringed angrily.
Abruptly he stood, suds still dripping off his hands. “Finish quickly. You have five minutes before I come back and this time I won’t be influenced to be kind to you. Do you understand?” He turned and stormed out of the room that suddenly felt entirely too small to him.
Arkdone’s face was the picture of rage, but Meg had no idea what he was talking about. She hadn’t done anything to influence him.
Heck, she thought, I don’t even have enough energy to influence myself to brush my teeth, and that’s saying a lot. She grimaced as she leaned back into the water to rinse the shampoo Senator Arkdone had put there.
Deciding her exhaustion must be playing tricks on her mind because the alternate just didn’t make sense, she focused on finishing her bath. She didn’t forget to use conditioner because if she didn’t the tight curls would turn into one massive knot. The soap felt amazing on her grimy skin, but she hurried.
She felt a small burst of energy after the bath, where she made sure to drink as much as her stomach would hold directly from the faucet. The toweling off took seconds before she reached for the pile of clothing Arkdone left for her. It was a little scary how perfectly everything fit her…including the undergarments. Five minutes passed too quickly.
She opened the door to the bathroom slowly, looking around quickly for something, anything she could use as a weapon. It looked to be living room, she realized now. The traditional furniture dripped with money and sophistication. Each sofa had dark pigmented leather and plush cushions arranged beautifully on each. An expensive chocolate-colored cashmere throw was tossed casually across the matching chaise lounge. Books were piled beside it, across the end table and spilled onto the floor casually.
Nothing small and easy to grab, damn it, she thought.
“Good. Exactly five minutes. Please have a seat,” Arkdone said as he slowly walked a wheelchair to her side.
Meg’s pride screamed some profanities, but all she said was, “I can walk.”
“You seem much refreshed, but I insist.” Arkdone narrowed his eyes, challenging her to defy him.
Knowing full well she wasn’t refreshed enough to take on the monster smiling before her, she moved to sit in the chair. Her towel-dried hair pressed cold and wet against her back as she leaned into the chair. Arkdone moved with the speed of a viper to wrap a strap around her chest and secured it tightly behind the chair.
“What are you doing?” Meg screamed. “Let me go!”