Ravish: The Awakening of Sleeping Beauty - By Cathy Yardley Page 0,39
him retreating further into this delusion.”
It’s not delusion, you ass! She grimaced. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
But she could tell on his face that he didn’t trust her. The pain roiled through her.
“Your brother could be in more danger than you know,” she argued. “Would you really subject him to that, simply because of your prejudices?”
“I’m trying to keep him safe.” His voice was like a whip, quick and cutting.
“So am I,” she said.
He took a deep breath, then shook his head. “I’m sorry I came here.”
She closed her eyes. A solitary tear leaked out. “I’m sorry you came here, too.”
She heard his footsteps, soft and quick across her thick carpet. Then the door opened, and closed.
He was gone without a word.
She threw the cup across the room, letting it shatter, the tea dripping down her wall. Then she sank onto her floor and wept.
Rory woke alone in her bed, shivering slightly. She thought it was evening, but no, it was simply overcast. A storm was hitting the island. In the entire time she’d been on the island, she couldn’t remember it ever drizzling, much less seeing anything like the dark, ponderous thunderclouds that were threatening on the horizon.
She sat up, feeling wrung out.
Jacob must be awake now, she thought, stretching. She wondered what he was doing. What he was thinking? She got up, forcing herself to get dressed. She wasn’t…
She stopped.
There were sounds.
She crept to the doorway of her hotel room, pressing her ear against the wood of the door.
People. Down the hallway, she could hear people laughing, walking around.
She got dressed quickly, her heart beating frantically. Had the creatures from the grove invaded her sanctuary? Were they getting even with her for interrupting their rituals by switching over to the only place she felt safe?
Wearing a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a pair of sneakers, she crept out into the hallway. The noise intensified: it sounded more and more like the thrum of a crowd, the busy, shuffling sounds of people walking to and fro. It sounded like a busy hotel, she thought.
A well-dressed couple walked past her without even looking at her, engrossed in their own conversation. “Can’t believe Henri and Lily bought this place,” one said.
Rory started. Henri and Lily.
Those were her parents’ names. It couldn’t be coincidence.
She followed the couple, merging into a stream of other obviously rich people who were populating the hotel. The place was now swarmed with well-to-do tourists. The reception desk was packed with people. To help them put up with the indignity of waiting in line, a young woman handed out crystal flutes full of mimosas from a silver tray. Porters dashed around like ants, pushing heavy carts filled with matching, monogrammed luggage. Above the great glass doors was a huge sign: CONGRATULATIONS, HENRI AND LILY!
“Congratulations for what?” Rory mumbled.
“Their baby,” a woman said, looking over Rory’s casual garb with distaste. “I take it you’re not here for the christening party, then.”
Rory shook her head. Christening party. If it were her parents, they only had one child—her. So the party would be…for her? As a baby?
Why am I dreaming this?
She was jostled by the crowd, following them mindlessly as they streamed toward the tall-ceilinged ballroom. The people were crushed in there, celebrating with champagne and caviar and tiny pastries. In the midst of the commotion, there was a loud, ceremonious gong, and a man stood up at the top of the balustrade, over the ballroom’s orchestra pit.
Rory looked up…and almost fainted.
It was her father, not as she had last seen him, but as he had been years ago. She remembered pictures. He had to be thirty-four at the oldest. He was smiling broadly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him so happy. He hugged her mother to his side in open affection. Rory was astounded, and touched.
Her father waved his hands. “Thank you all for coming, and for being patient while checking in.” There were a number of chuckles at that, as well as some good-natured grumbling. “This hotel has been a dream of mine for years. Then I met Lily, and I thought I couldn’t be happier. Well, I was wrong.”
Her mother was stunning, wearing a pale peach wrap dress, her hair up in a loose blond chignon. She reached into a stroller behind her, producing a swaddled baby. A tiny pink arm emerged from the folds of blanket, and a lusty baby cry followed.