Nevertheless, she was breathing heavier when he lifted his lips from hers.
“Callum,” she whispered.
“You’re here,” he whispered back, his eyes, full-on tawny, roaming her face, his fingers sifting through the hair at the side of her head. “In my arms, in my bed, in my home.”
She had to stop him. She couldn’t listen to this, couldn’t witness it again and want it just as much as she knew he’d never give it to her.
“Callum. I feel strange.” His head cocked to the side at her words and the warm look on his face vanished as his brows shot together. “Not that,” she said swiftly, she couldn’t bear his false, loving concern, not again. “Just, I think jetlag or something. All that food. Everything went so fast yesterday. I feel weird. I think I need a shower and more coffee –”
She stopped speaking because his face relaxed and he touched his mouth to hers.
“Take a shower, baby doll,” he allowed (would she ever get used to him telling her what she could and couldn’t do and when she could and couldn’t do it?). “I’ve got a few things to do but I’ll come back and take you on a tour of your new home.” His head bent and he nuzzled her neck a moment before he marked her hair with his temple and lifted his head again. “You’ll take it easy a few days, get acclimatized. Is that good?”
Was he asking like he cared about her answer or was it a rhetorical question?
She answered the only way she could. “That’s good.”
He grinned at her.
She loved his grin just as much as she told herself she hated it.
He pushed away from her and exited the bed.
She looked at the big room and called out to him, “Callum?”
He glanced down at her, brows raised.
“Um, where’s the bathroom?”
She really hoped it wasn’t on another floor or something. That would be awful, climbing down those winding, stone steps should she need the facilities in the middle of the night.
He smiled, planted a fist in the bed on either side of her, touched his lips (again!) to hers, pushed away and then walked across the room and opened a door that was in a tapestry. The tapestry was affixed to the door in a way that it looked a seamless part of the bigger tapestry all around it. The doorknob, too, was hidden in the tapestry’s design.
It was very neat and super clever.
She didn’t share this with Callum.
She just threw back the hides (really? who slept under hides?), got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
Callum stalled her progress by hooking an arm around her stomach and she twisted her neck and looked up at him.
“I’m anxious to show you your new home, honey,” he murmured, before kissing her forehead and finishing by ordering gently, but definitely kingly, “You have an hour.”
Then he was gone.
She was glad for the reminder that he was king.
And the reminder that, even if she was queen, and not of his people, she was still nothing but a subject.
* * * * *
The bathroom was (almost) as nice as the bedroom. The walls and floors were still that stone but there was a big, brass towel warmer, a huge circular tub in a very pretty shade of rust and a shower cubical tiled in rich-colored tiles. The ceramic basin was rust-colored and set in more of that mellow golden-red-brown stone. There was a set of shelves inset in a wall with stacks of fluffy, neatly folded towels. The shelves also bore pretty stoneware boxes and trays that Sonia would love to fill with her girlie bits and bobs. There was a huge, round mirror over the basin surrounded on the top half with brass lights. And last, twin, narrow, thin handsome cabinets on the walls on either side of the recessed basin.
Seriously, so far, Sonia could see why everyone was so happy in this castle.
She tried to hate it, she just couldn’t.
She lugged her cosmetics case into the bathroom, found her stuff, took a quick shower and did the best she could do with her hair and makeup when she didn’t know where anything was.