Page 98 of Cruel Master
Hadrian dips his head toward it. “Get in.”
I do, and oh my fucking God, this is amazing. The water temperature is about two degrees below scalding, and I moan as warmth seems into my bones for what feels like the first time ever. I stretch out my legs and tip my head back, soaking my hair properly. I’m going to move into this bathroom. Eat and sleep here. Nothing will ever get me out.
I close my eyes and bask.
When Hadrian climbs in beside me, I’m not surprised. It feels right somehow, and I don’t even open my eyes as he slips an arm around my back and tucks me into his chest. I’d grown so used to being cold that I’d forgotten what warm and cozy feels like, and now I’m a limp noodle, floppy and boneless. As my body relaxes, my brain follows suit, and a huge yawn overtakes me.
We’re naked together. With Saldar, that only meant one thing. Moments ago, I was primed and ready, but this bath might as well have been drugged. My limbs are leaden, my thoughts slow.
As if he’s reading my mind, he says, “Just rest, doll. We’ve had a rough day.”
His voice is a rumble against my cheek, and I sigh. I’m sure I’ve been more comfortable than this before, but then I didn’t understand how valuable it was. Now, I’m relishing every single second. His arm tightens around me, and my thoughts slide away.
When I come to, Hadrian is lifting me out of the bath. I’m dopey and confused as he sits me down on the side of the bath long enough to wrap a fluffy towel around me, then picks me up again. I mutter, “What—”
“You fell asleep in the bath. I’m taking you to bed.”
He’s using hisdon’t arguetone, but why the hell would I argue with that? A real bed.
He’s the reason you’ve been sleeping on cold stone, you know.
God, shut up. I just want to have something nice for once.
At least the bedroom has a bit of Hadrian’s personality. A few framed movie posters, including his classicStar Warsone. That poster saved his life, and as he sets me down on the bed to pull back the covers, I point at it.
“If it wasn’t for that poster, you’d be dead.”
Hadrian frowns at me. He’s bare chested and wearing soft gray sweatpants, and though his body and ink make him look dangerous and sexy, the confused expression is familiar. It’s the old him in a new, savage package. “What?”
“That poster. When Candice asked me to figure out your password, I remembered when we set up your old PC. You told me the passcode then.”
His face clears, and he smiles. “Lucky you remembered.”
“More than lucky.” I shiver again at the thought of what might have happened. I climb into bed—Jesus Christ, the bed is soft. Did beds always feel like this?—and ask a question that’s been bugging me on and off.
“Why couldn’t Candice just open your door?”
Hadrian’s confused expression makes a comeback. I’m not surprised. I’m topic hopping like a crazy person, sleepy brain firing in all directions. “What do you mean?”
“Before I restored Candice, she unlocked the door of your office to the outside and doctored the feed to make it look like I was still sitting there. If she managed that, why couldn’t she just have opened my cell door and let you out?”
The reason for the niggle at the back of my mind presents itself in a rush, and it’s enough to wipe away some of the sleepy haze. Hadrian has switched on the wall-mounted TV and is flicking through movies. Is Candice watching us through that right now? She might be. She might be watching everyone in the Compound.
But that way lies madness, and crazy though it sounds, I didn’t get a malicious vibe from her. I’ll say what I want to say. Fuck it.
“Do you think she could have done it if she’d wanted to? Opened the cell door, I mean. Just let you straight out. But instead, she sent me to restore her since she knew it might be her only chance?”
Hadrian’s hand stills on the remote, and I sense the renewed tension in him. He pauses for so long I’m not sure he’s going to give me an answer. Maybe he’s worried she might be listening, too?
But then he turns to me. “What would you have done in her shoes? Would you have saved your own life if you could?”
The question is so far from what I was expecting that I turn away as I think. I mean, of course, given the chance, I’d save my own life rather than throw it away. But…
“What if it meant you got killed, though? What if Dimitry released thegas?”
“If she had the power to open the door, she could have done it if things went bad.” Hadrian stares down at the remote control. “Kendrick would never have allowed me to bring her back. She’s too dangerous to the Brotherhood. If the fragment of her knew that and took the chance to save her life…” His dark eyes meet mine. “I can’t blame her.”
Well, shit. That’s not how I’d thought of it at all. I still see her as a machine, not a person. Hadrian clearly doesn’t.
