Every part of her felt shaky and she wondered if she’d manage to stand upright without collapsing, much less make it across the room under her own power. But it wasn’t until she stood, legs quivering but not yet giving out, that she turned to him. “What about you? How are you feeling?”
With a sinewy grace, Bast rolled out of the massive king-sized bed. Alice wished she didn’t notice the definition of his muscles as they moved like quicksilver. But she did.
“No sign of the illness yet.” He shook his head. “Look at us. We’re a match made in heaven. When one’s not sick, the other is. I think you were meant to find me, Alice. Someone in the heavens wants us to be together.”
Her stomach rolled at that statement, and she hurried toward the bathroom. She couldn’t keep those words from echoing in her head, not bothering to sort if they were teasing or serious. Yes, she was sick, but what kind of demented god would destine her to be with someone like Bast? Then again, it was too much of a coincidence to be ignored. Granted, she took her pills religiously. While they wouldn’t make her better, they should keep her from deteriorating too quickly or at all. Maybe it was her time to go, and Bast would ease her way from this world without the suffering she might normally have to endure.
It seemed plausible. Someone did want them together. That someone would also probably frown on her stealing from him.
Shit. Yeah, so maybe later she’d kick herself hard for letting opportunity slip through her fingers, but he’d been kind to her. He made her feel human again and not like a composition of skin and bones, taking up valuable space on the earth. When he kissed her, he made her feel like a woman. No, she wouldn’t take anything from this house. Not even the lovely little letter opener, although that she’d hold on to for a little while longer. No telling if that Cicero guy would show up again, intent on getting at her.
She considered it for only a moment longer, her thoughts about her nonexistent finances disintegrating when she inspected the bathroom. If the other guest bathroom had the ability to take her breath away, this one made her practically orgasmic.
Alice walked the entire perimeter, stunned that any one person could possibly be able to afford such opulence in their home. Between the lush Oriental rug in the center of the room, where a plump recliner sat, to lighted floor tiles and the flat-screen television in the mirror, she was awed. She peered into the shower stall, separated by its own room, and couldn’t locate the showerhead. Until something told her to look up.
There, in the ceiling, were dozens of perfect holes decorating the ceiling, set in a stainless steel panel. Twisting the knob in a far corner of the spacious area confirmed her suspicions. It was like watching rain fall from the sky.
Exploring must have cost her twenty minutes, and she still hadn’t peered into medicine cabinets. It was all she could do to prevent herself from simply rubbing her naked body over the luxurious towels and other linens stacked so carefully in a walk-in closet.
Taking a shower and cleaning up must have taken another twenty minutes to complete, but Alice couldn’t find the will to make herself go any faster. The water was at the right temperature. The towels, when wrapped around her damp body, were heated to perfection. The mirror didn’t fog, and the toothpaste even had the right balance of mint.
She’d taken this kind of stuff for granted not too long ago and now, faced with the best in modern amenities, she couldn’t stop taking pleasure in them. If Bast wanted her to get out any faster, he’d have to come in armed with a crowbar. Even then, he might find a serious struggle on his hands.
Slinking into the bedroom, towel wrapped around her torso, she came ready with an excuse about not being able to operate the complicated toilet poised on the tip of her tongue. Her thoughts froze as she espied Sebastian.
He stood in the corner, his face downcast, shrugging on a shirt over his glorious chest. His naked, holy-shit-that-can’t-be-real chest. While solidly built, it was the honed definition of someone who knew how to get hours of work lifting weights to make a difference. Bast was lean, ropes of muscle lending him a razor’s edge. She could have spent hours running her fingers over every single one of those lines, each displaying the beauty of man at its finest.