Page 30 of Omega Island
I helped him onto the back bench of the cart. It was lightly padded. Then I remembered. We’d left his swim trunks behind floating in the pool. But I couldn’t worry about that now. Someone else would have to fish them out.
The golf cart took off down the blue brick pathway and I realized just how far from Senta’s house the pool had been. It would have taken us half an hour to walk there in his condition.
In no time, we pulled up to a beautiful house behind some trees on the other side of the parkland from the lagoon. The trees hid it from public view, but now I saw the cute two-story with a Victorian air and it made me smile. I would never have guessed someone as elegant and refined as Senta lived in what looked like a child’s giant doll house.
I instantly loved it.
When the golf cart pulled up to the front porch, I helped Senta out. The omega driver watched his boss with concern.
“Sir, do you need help? Should I call someone?”
“No,” Senta replied quickly. “I just need to get inside. It’s a heat, that’s all.”
“If you’re sure?” The driver hesitated. This was his boss. Obedience wasn’t the issue; he looked worried.
“I’ve got him,” I said. “He wanted me to see him home.”
The driver hesitated. “Do I know you?” he asked me.
“He’s a friend,” Senta interrupted. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
“All right.” He turned to address me. “If you need the cart, just call.”
I nodded, listening to the engine running as he watched me help Senta up two shallow steps to his porch. He hung out for another few seconds to make sure I got the door open and Senta inside. Finally, I heard him drive off.
Once we were both inside, Senta raised his head toward the stairs. “My room is on the second level.”
“Oh. Do you think you can make it?”
He nodded once but looked unsure.
“I could carry you,” I blurted.
He turned to look at me, dark eyes hard. Our faces were inches apart. My entire body felt on fire.
I had meant my statement in all honesty. Even being at my lowest weight since college, I could easily carry him up the stairs.
“Well, I could,” I said a bit defensively.
Senta said nothing and moved a little ahead of me to show me he could walk. I refused to let go of him. If he doubled over on the stairs, I didn’t want to imagine what could happen.
His room was large with an en suite bathroom. He had a huge bed that looked larger than a king—probably custom made—canopied and draped with thin black and purple silks. The drapes did not hang all the way down to the bed, but instead were more decorative, giving the space a Bedouin look. The covers were all dark purple with bright white pillows mixed in. Behind the bed was an amazing stone motif of a jungle made of gemstones and seashells.
The room smelled fresh, like a breeze of faint peppermint. A ceiling fan shaped like palm fronds moved slowly round and round to spread the coolness of the air conditioning.
“I need a shower.” Senta pulled away from me, seeming stronger now that he was in familiar surroundings.
It felt like a dismissal—until he stumbled. I caught him easily and helped him into the bathroom.
Once inside, I couldn’t keep my mouth from opening in awe. It was like an entire new room with a separate alcove for the toilet, another for the bathtub, and still another for the walk-in shower. Two sinks with raised basins sat on a black jade countertop. The faucets were gold, the ends shaped like dragon heads with open mouths. Everything was black, white and lavender like the bedroom, the floor a chessboard with soft black and white rugs.
Senta rested against the sink, his eyes closed, his breaths shallow.
“Are you sure you want a shower? I think you should lie down.”
He shook his head. “Turn on the water to cool, please.”
I left him propped by the sinks and went to the shower, trying to figure out how to open the glass door. When I touched it, it automatically slid aside. The water came on by itself and shot out of several spigots on the walls, and I saw a panel with a button that saidCooland hit that.
