Page 12 of Sinful Palace

Logan ushered me forward, and I stepped into my new room with wide eyes. It was laid out in a similar style to my room at Thorne House, only the general color scheme was darker with shades of burgundy, black and silver instead of white and gold.

“This is nice,” I said, stretching my arms out as a yawn escaped my mouth. “Sir,” I quickly added, bowing my head in a deferential manner. Now that we had total privacy again, I figured I better stop running my mouth and refusing to use the title Logan had bestowed upon himself.

“Take a quick shower,” he said. “There’s a robe and pajamas in the bathroom for you, next to all the towels. Tomorrow, I’ll have someone bring you a new wardrobe.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, head still bowed. “Where will you be sleeping?”

“In here.”

“Oh.”

He tilted my chin up with an index finger. “We can’t have separate rooms while we’re here. It would look a little strange, wouldn’t it?”

“How would anyone know? I assume the maids aren’t allowed to talk about what they see.”

“Yes, but my parents might have friends over while Thorne House is being rebuilt. Seeing as the whole family is sharing one floor now, it would be easy for those friends to notice that you and I aren’t sharing a room, if that’s what we decided to do. One of them could go and mention that to another friend, and that could be all it takes to start a fresh set of tabloid rumors about us.”

“We could always say we’re waiting until marriage before we share a bed, sir,” I said, unable to resist the tongue-in-cheek comment.

Logan cracked the tiniest of smiles and nodded toward my cup. “Finish that and take a shower.”

I padded into the bathroom, grateful for Logan’s good mood tonight. It was especially notable considering all the shit I’d caused. It was almost unbelievable how nice and generous he was being toward me despite the fire Teddy had started on my behalf. Or the fact he’d been forced to shoot Teddy dead after their decades-long friendship.

My mood soured as his earlier words flashed in my mind. Maybe your mother was right about you. You’re nothing but trouble.

I hated to admit it, but he was right. I was too impulsive. Too reckless. A true troublemaker.

My thoughts disintegrated into a woozy mess as exhaustion set in. I took a quick shower and forced myself into the silk pajamas the maids had laid out for me, limbs weak and heavy with fatigue.

I was so tired by the time I left the bathroom that I could barely find the energy to climb into bed. Logan helped me, strong arms lifting me onto my spot.

When my head hit the pillow, my eyes shuttered instantly. Logan kept one hand on me, gently stroking my hair. “That’s it, princess. Rest now,” he murmured.

For the first time since he took me captive, I happily obeyed him.

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