Chapter Nine

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Em came awake in bits and pieces. Her skin tightened with goosebumps as a cool breeze flowed from an open window. She took a deep breath and flexed her fingers. They were resting on a plush blanket. There was a loud pop at the end of the bed.

It took a moment for her to figure out what made the sound. Fire. She cracked her eyes open and lifted her head an inch. There was a fire burning in an enormous stone fireplace. There was a comfortable looking winged back chair placed close to it. She turned her head to take in the rest of the room. On the left side of the room, there was a large window that had been left open several inches. The sheer white curtain fluttered. It was pure black beyond the glass.

Her eyes shifted to the right. There was a set of French doors with matching sheer curtains. The fireplace dominated the wall across from the bed. The stones stretched to the ceiling. To the right of that was a dark wood door. Along the wall with the door was a wood dresser with a glossy finish. The bed was covered in a dark blue comforter. Her head had been resting on a fluffy pillow. Her gaze dropped to her chest. Someone had dressed her in a satin nightgown. Of course, she was naked under the thin fabric.

"Where am I?" she whispered as she dropped her head.

A few seconds later, as if he had heard her question, there was a soft knock on the door, then it opened. It was Davros.

She closed her eyes quickly and tried to keep her breath even and slow. He slipped into the room and moved past the bed to the window. The metal scraped softly as he closed it.

"We don't want you catching a chill," he said, then turned to the bed. He waited for a moment, but she didn't respond. "I know you're awake. Your heart rate gave you away." She opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her. It was the same charming 'I won't hurt you my pretty' smile he'd used on her at the studio.

"Who dressed me?" she asked.

"I did," he said as he moved to the chair and picked up a robe that matched her nightgown. "All of my staff are men." He moved back to the bed. "I hope you don't mind." She didn't respond. He held up the robe. "Are you hungry? I had the cook make some breakfast." Her gaze slid to the window. "Yes, it's late, but I thought it might tempt you." He smiled again. "I mean, who doesn't like bacon?" She didn't budge. "I imagine you have questions. Why don't we have something to eat and talk?" She sat up slowly and scooted towards the end of the bed. He moved to intercept her with his hand held out. "You may be a little weak from the drugs."

"How long was I out?" She reluctantly took his hand and stood on unsteady legs. He helped her into the robe, tied the belt, and brushed her hair from her shoulders.

"Two and a half days," he said.

She glared at his chest. "Did you—"

"While you were sleeping?" His hands cupped her shoulders. "No. When we make love, I want you to be awake and present." He moved next to her, took her hand, and looped it through the crook of his arm. "We'll go slow, but if you need to stop, just say the word, okay?" She nodded.

He led her to the door and opened it to reveal a long hallway lined with other doors. Everything about it, the dark wood wainscoting, plush gray carpet, silver sconces, off-white walls, made her think of high-end hunting lodge.

They walked down the hallway to a curving staircase that emptied into a massive foyer with a white stone floor. As they walked through it, she saw the staircase continued, curving down to at least one more level. He took her to a large formal dining room with high ceilings. He pulled out the chair next to the head of the table for her, then took his seat. An older man in kitchen whites entered a few moments later, carrying to two covered dishes which he set down in front of them.

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