Dark Carousel (Dark #30) - Christine Feehan Page 0,42

ahead of danger.

Lourdes wrapped her arms around Charlotte’s neck and kissed her back, making growling noises and acting menacing. “I’m going to eat your face, Auntie. I’m a snow monster.” She proceeded to kiss Charlotte all over her chin and eyes and cheeks until both of them were laughing. Lourdes pulled away first to jump on the bed, clearly wanting her aunt to move.

Forcing herself into a sitting position, Charlotte groaned again as her body protested the slightest movement. She looked around the room. It was large, with a wide bed, a dresser and an armoire rather than a closet. Heavy drapes at the window blocked any semblance of daylight. Someone had thoughtfully put in a night-light for Lourdes and it hadn’t been her. She hadn’t thought of anything but going to bed . . .

Her eyes went wide and she threw back the covers and looked down at herself. Thankfully she was fully clothed. Well, they weren’t her clothes, but she was dressed in a long white Victorian-type nightgown. It was beautiful and looked hand stitched. Thank God, her dream was just that, a dream. She’d never had a dream so detailed. Or sexual. Or graphic.

“Auntie,” Lourdes insisted. “Hurry.”

That meant they had to move. Charlotte didn’t know where the bathroom was, but she was fairly certain Lourdes wouldn’t have been put in the bedroom if it hadn’t been close to a bathroom. She stood up and felt soreness in muscles she hadn’t known existed. Too much soreness. Real. Every step she took there was a stretch and burn deep inside. Along her thighs. Her breasts were a little sore.

Charlotte pulled open the door, took Lourdes’s hand and walked down the hall to the nearest room. Pushing open the door, she was relieved to find a good-sized bathroom with golden faucets and a deep claw-foot tub. Lourdes raced across the tiled floor to hop on the toilet while Charlie forced each foot forward, a woman going to the gallows, until she stood in front of the ornate gold-framed full-length mirror and stared at herself.

To her absolute horror, there were three rather large strawberries, one on each side of her neck and one low at the base of her throat. She closed her eyes briefly on a groan of despair. She looked like a teenager. She had circles under her eyes, but her skin was glowing. Her hair, always thick, looked shiny and, even to her, beautiful, with waves that fell down her back. She was acutely aware of smells. The scent of roses permeated the room, and she turned away from the mirror to find the source. On the long sink was a dish with beads in it and the scent was coming from there. The dish was hand painted and looked like an antique.

She turned back to the mirror, glanced at Lourdes, who wasn’t paying her any attention, and pressed the neckline of her gown down to the swell of her breasts. Sure enough she had marks there as well. There was even the hint of teeth marks along with finger smudges and more strawberries. She covered her face, feeling color sweeping up her neck to infuse her face with pure embarrassment.

“I need help, Auntie.”

She took a deep breath and went over to her niece to help her. Lourdes chattered on the way back to her room and was happy when her clothes were all there, in the dresser as well as in the armoire. There were clothes for Charlotte in the armoire as well, and that wouldn’t make her happy unless Grace had packed some things for her, but the clothes didn’t look like anything she owned. Too expensive. Similar to her things, but not brands she’d ever worn before.

She pressed her hand to trembling lips. She was in way over her head. Men like Tariq Asenguard had women falling at their feet. He was handsome. Mysterious. Wealthy. Sophisticated. Men like him didn’t look at girls like her. She had nothing to offer him. She’d had wild sex with him. She remembered the way he made her feel. Just thinking about it sent a spasm through her very core. Thinking about him made her damp. Needy.

Charlotte took a deep breath. She couldn’t undo what had happened. It happened. Her hand went to the curve of her breast where she felt achy. Where his mark was. She had to get control and come up with a plan. At least they were all safe for the moment. She didn’t understand