The whole place was awesome – if I didn’t allow myself to think of the fact that the four woman who danced attendance on me didn’t meet my eyes, said barely anything and treated me with unfailing courtesy if not an ounce of friendliness no matter how I tried to catch their eyes and give them a smile or engage them in conversation.
They left me to my bath; I allowed myself to luxuriate in it, letting the hot water soothe the kinks of the long ride out of my muscles. I got out, toweled off and turned to my newest outfit.
The city, castle and rooms were awesome. But the underwear, nightgown and robe were more awesome… by far.
Not shorts or drawers, laid out for me were actual panties made of pale yellow silk edged at the bottoms with lace. They fit a bit snug (Cora of this world definitely weighed more than a few pounds less than me) but they still looked fantastic.
And the nightgown and robe were to-die-for. A soft peach silk, thin straps, fitted simple bodice and a flowing skirt that went to my ankles. Luckily the skirt was flowing but, as with the panties, the bodice and h*ps of the gown fit snug (clearly, the other Cora was also a cup size smaller than me too). The robe was a matching sheer chiffon with a wide satin sash.
They felt great and even snug looked great and were relatively comfortable.
So there I stood, brushing my hair with the silver-handled brush Cora had left behind, the scent of gardenia in my nose, the lamps and candles flickering behind me in Tor’s bedroom (which was awesome too, decorated in royal blue, silver, black and charcoal gray, it had a mammoth, curtained four-poster sitting smack in the middle of the colossal room, handsome dark-wood furniture, comfortable looking, plush sofas and chairs scattered around, gleaming ivory marbled floors that were made less cold by thick, intricately woven rugs littering them and warm blue-painted walls) and I stared at the view. There was incense one of the maids set to burning that smelled of sandalwood which mingled nicely with the gardenia.
I was brushing my hair, taking all of this in and I was thinking Princess Cora Goode Hawthorne was a total, freaking idiot.
Sure, her house and the area surrounding it were gorgeous but this, all of it, including the man that came with it…
Total. Freaking. Idiot.
I heard a noise, turned to face the room and stopped dead.
Tor was walking through the room completely na**d except for a black bathsheet fastened loose around his hips.
Holy freaking crap!
With an unsteady hand, I set the brush on the balustrade and stared.
I’d seen his chest but that was it. I knew he had great thighs and he was hard everywhere but now I saw he had great calves and the indentations around his hips, the definition of his abs, the veins drifting up his belly and down his forearms and biceps, his jaw cleanly shaven, his long-ish, black hair wet and slicked back.
Yowza!
I tore my eyes from him to see he’d come through one of the many doors that led off his bedroom (I hadn’t explored because I thought it was rude and I should ask but by the time I could, I was alone).
What I knew was, it was not the bathroom door.
Where had he bathed?
In his bathsheet he walked right out onto the patio and, honest to God, he looked straight out of the movie with the candlelit room behind him, the wispy, royal blue curtains blowing in the light breeze and him being so damned hawt.
I struggled to find my voice, found it and asked, “Where did you bathe?”
His head jerked and I belatedly noticed he’d been staring, quite intently, at my body and my words startled him out of a reverie.
His eyes cut to my face and he answered, “My bath.”
“You have a bath?” I asked as he got closer.
“Yes.”
“Is it somewhere else in the castle?” I enquired, thinking that was weird and also thinking of him walking the vast halls of his home in a towel and leaving swooning maids in his wake.
“No,” he replied, stopping in front of me, his big hands going to my waist. “I have a private bath and you have a private bath. They’re separate. I used mine…” his eyes slid over my wet hair, “and apparently you used yours.”
We both had our own bathrooms?
Whoa. Cool!
“Cool,” I smiled up at him.