Page 62 of Mayfair Madame
“It was fantastic,” I mumbled. My head dropped to the side, and I remembered nothing more.
I woke in darkness, barely able to make out any shapes in the room. What time was it, and how long had I been out?
The sheets rustled next to me, and I turned. Naomi was sleeping peacefully.
The soup must have been magic. My headache had gone, and the lethargy I’d been feeling had left me. I was still tired, but it wasn’t the bone-deep exhaustion I’d been feeling since Monday. Desperate for a pee, I tiptoed to the bathroom.
I gazed at the huge bath we’d shared, memories of her naked body next to mine. How had it been only a couple of weeks since we’d met?
I felt like I’d known her a lifetime, but knew there were still parts of her I had to discover. I caught my reflection in the mirror and gasped.
Shit, I looked awful, my face pale and drawn. How much weight had I lost?
I’d barely eaten anything since collapsing on Monday, and while part of me knew I needed to eat to regain my strength, the other part rubbed its hands in glee at how much weight I might have lost.
More than a few pounds, maybe even half a stone. Weight I could more than afford to lose.
After doing my business, I crept into the bedroom and pulled back the covers. Naomi’s nude body stretched out, stark against the white covers. Long legs, exquisitely dainty feet, and painted toenails. Slender arms, one across her stomach, the other over her head. She was beautiful.
Her eyes flickered, and a frown formed on her forehead. Small whimpers left her. Her body convulsed, the serenity having left her.
She squirmed, the whimpers becoming grunts, and her face twisted as if in pain, fists thumping the bed.
I’d experienced her nightmares before, but this seemed worse. What should I do?
Should I wake her? I sat on the edge of the bed. Every muscle in her body seemed to tighten as her head thrashed from side to side.
I couldn’t let this continue. I grabbed her hand. “Naomi, it's Ellie. Come on, baby, wake up.”
She wrenched her hand from mine, her cries becoming louder.
“Naomi.” I placed my hand on her chest, panic setting in. “Naomi, baby.”
She gasped, and her eyes flew open, wild and wide.
“It’s okay. You’re safe. I promise.” I gathered her into my arms, her body limp, and stroked her hair.
Loud sobs filled the silence, her tears wet against my skin.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered over and over. I rocked her gently, waiting until finally her cries softened.
Her heaving breaths calmed, and still she let me hold her.
Minutes passed until finally she pulled away, her face wet, eyes bloodshot.
“I seem to be making a habit of this.” She swiped at the fallen tears and sniffed.
“It’s okay. I told you that before. If you want to talk about it…” Hopefully, she’d at least tell me what was on her mind.
She shook her head and lay back down. “Hold me, please.”
I could do that. I brought the covers with me and wrapped them around us, her head lying on my chest.
I’d never seen her look so vulnerable, so lost. This wasn’t the strong woman I’d met. Even in the face of sexual assault, she’d had an air of defiance about her, but now, as she lay trembling in my arms, I knew whatever caused these nightmares had left scars that ran deep.
Neither of us slept, content to lie in tranquillity. All the anguish and anxiety had drained from us both, leaving just calm.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It’s twice you’ve seen that. I’m not usually so restless, but since that night, you know, with Godfrey.”
