Page 88 of Tarnished Reign

William Morris? That is familiar. Why?

Glancing down at my body, I see my top half sticking out of the thick covers and give a small cry. “Who undressed me?”

I’m wearing a long, silk champagne-colored nightdress with spaghetti straps. It means someone got me naked and then put this on me.

“I did, Miss Adriana. Another female member of staff and myself cleaned you and got you changed.” She smiles again. “Don’t worry; no man has touched you.”

That isn’t as reassuring as she thinks, not with what else she said. “Cleaned me?”

“You smelled of a long flight.” She smiles softly. “We bathed you.”

“How? How the hell did you lift me into a bath?”

She laughs. “We used the bed bath method, miss. I was a nurse, and I know how to bathe someone who is unconscious.”

That’s common assault right there. This woman is mad, and I barely believe she was a nurse in her previous existence.

“What are you now?”

“Your maid, Miss Adriana.”

What the fuck?

“Where the hell am I?” I shout, my fear overriding my usual people-pleasing politeness. I try to get out of the bed, but the room lurches alarmingly.

“Let me get the master.”

“Who the hell is the master? Where am I?”

Smiling still in that awful, vacant way she has, she shrugs. “I can’t answer your questions, miss. The master will.”

She leaves the room, and I touch my skin. It feels soft. I bend my head and sniff my arm. Scented body lotion. Oh my God. I feel violated. These women bathed me, put lotion on me, and dressed me. All while I was unaware.

The door opens, and I gasp in surprise.

“Oh my God.” Tears flood my eyes. “Barnaby. How? Oh, God. You saved me? From the men who took me? How?”

I forget my fear as a wave of familiarity washes over me. I’m not even wondering what the hell is going on anymore. All I feel is relief because this is Barnaby and somehow, he must have saved me. I’m not angry now at Sian for involving him because damn it, it worked.

I wonder where she is, but perhaps he wanted to talk to me first. It makes sense. I finally find the strength to push the covers off and stand. As I run from the bed toward him, I stumble a little on woozy legs and throw my arms around him.

He holds me to him and kisses the top of my head for a long moment, breathing me in as he does. I wriggle in his arms a little as he holds me for a long time.

“I must say, my dearest darling, I didn’t expect quite such a relieved welcome. I rather thought you’d gone and fallen for the thug.”

“Thug?”

“The Bratva kingpin.”

I frown. “No. I mean … no.” I don’t want to talk to him about that. Sian yes; him, no.

My mouth is so furry and dry. I want a drink, and I want Sian. Barnaby stares at me with his intelligent eyes, and he’s smiling, but it’s different to his usual smile. It’s odd. A smile at my expense, it seems to me, not a smile for me. As if he’s in on a joke I don’t understand.

“I’m confused,” I say. “I was taken from the yacht to be sold at auction. How did you know? How did you save me? Did you rescue me at the airport?”

“Come, let’s get you back in the bed.”

He leads me to the bed and sits me down. His fingers stroke down my arm when I settle back against the headboard, so tired it’s making me feel sick.

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