“Am I gonna wake up?” She wasn’t sure if that was a thought or if she’d asked aloud but then she surrendered to sleep without waiting for an answer. She closed her eyes and slid into an almost instant and deep sleep after it occurred to her, as she gave into it, that this felt like it would be a deeper sleep than she’d had in a long time.-3-It was, indeed, a deep and restful sleep but a split second after her eyes opened, her circumstances registered in bold Technicolor. She bolted upright and was instantly out of breath. Not a dream! How much time had passed? She pulled a thick deep red comforter up under her armpits.
Seduced by a vampire? Seriously, Kyla?
She was still there. In the vampire’s, what, lair? But it was daylight and she was alone. The curtains were opened part way and the room was filled with light. She was wearing nothing.
She surveyed her surroundings. It was a large room dominated by a queen-sized bed with four posters and ornate ironwork. She saw herself in her mind, with her hands attached to that ironwork, white knuckled as she got pummeled by the gorgeous monster. Heat rose in her cheeks as she remembered how drop-dead beautiful he was and how much she’d responded to him --- drop-dead being the operative phrase here. At least she wasn’t dead. Yet.
On the nightstand beside her was a big glass pitcher of ice water and a drinking glass alongside. She leaned over and poured some, feeling shaky. She gulped down a full glass and then poured a second glass and looked around. In addition to the door that she knew was an exit there were two more doors and she hoped one would lead her to a bathroom.
There was a cream-coloured wingback upholstered chair beside the bed. She didn’t recall that being there the night before. She was pretty sure it had been over in the sitting area at the bottom of the bed, where a black leather loveseat and a dark wood trunk coffee table faced a dark stone fireplace. Beside the fireplace was a door that was slightly open. She spied what looked like a robe across the arm of the loveseat so she darted quickly and grabbed it. Sure enough, it was a long caramel-coloured silky robe. It smelled like him. Like what, though; what did he smell like? Something male mixed with sugar? She inhaled deeply and sensed caramel and something else, like cotton candy but yet masculine. Was that sweet aroma cologne or just the smell of vampire? She didn’t know. She felt the colour rise in her cheeks again as she saw again, in her mind, the night before and remembered the way she had responded to him.
Her captor.
The vampire.
Tristan.
Where was the blue-eyed monster, anyway? In a coffin somewhere, hiding from the daylight? She swallowed hard and blew her hair out of her eyes. She must be under a spell. What girl in her right mind deconstructs a rape by trying to figure out what that awesome scent was? What girl in her right mind says the name of her captor in the throes of passion?
Oh Jack the Ripper… Harder, Jack, harder! Faster, Jack, faster!
Damn. This didn’t make any sense, even if he was movie star beautiful. She never figured herself so shallow that she’d just succumb to Stockholm syndrome based on looks and an orgasm. Okay, two orgasms. Two orgasms that topped the list, obliterated it, even.
But this wasn’t an ordinary kidnapper. It was a vampire kidnapper. He must have her under some sort of a spell, even if her eyes weren’t “vacant” as he’d put it. If vampires were really real, then maybe witchcraft was real too, and at play here with Kyla’s brain. No, she wasn’t vacant like Tristan’s other victims but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t doing something to her brain to make her behave so unlike her usual guarded self.
She blew her hair out of her non-vacant eyes and looked around as she tied the sash on the robe. Her clothes, shoes, and purse were absent. Some good the clothes would do her. She remembered that he’d ripped most of what she’d worn to shreds. She tiptoed to the big floor to ceiling window and carefully peered out, hiding behind the thick black floor-length drapes. She was on the second story. Below was a large courtyard with a swimming pool and spacious patio area. The window overlooked a long terrace. There was a door behind the thick drapes that opened to the terrace.
The opposite end had a dark brown and gray stone wall with a few windows and doors and balcony as well. It may have been the same balcony, all the way around. She couldn’t quite tell without opening the drapes further, which she didn’t want to do right now not knowing what was out there or where he was. She backed up and stood in the middle of the rich-looking bedroom and tried to decide what to do next.