Page 121 of Storm of Shadows
When they’ve finished washing me, Dray holds out the biggest, fluffiest of white towels I’ve ever seen and Beaufort holds out his hand to help me out. I hesitate again, but they’ve already seen me naked so I guess there is nothing left to be modest about.
“Don’t you have a different towel?” I ask.
“This one not good enough for you, little thrall?” Dray asks, one side of his mouth raised in a lopsided grin. “It’s made from the finest cotton.”
“I’ll get blood all over it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Beaufort says, shaking his hand.
“Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of fabrics?!”
“Yes,” they both answer together.
“Oh,” I say, still thinking about their answer as I climb out of the bath and let Dray wrap me up in the towel.
“There’re sanitary items just there,” Beaufort says, pointing to a pile of items beside the sink, “and a set of my pajamas there.”
“Pajamas?” I say, but they’re already out of the bathroom.
I peer around looking for my own clothes to pull on instead and realizing they’re gone. Sneaky. Seems I have no choice but to put on the plaid pants and baggy t-shirt unless I want to walk back to my room in the nude. Which I definitely do not.
I find a comb by the sink and brush out my hair, automatically going to tie it back up and then pausing. They’ve seen me naked. They’ve seen my scars. They’ve seen my hair. There’s almost nothing left to hide. And so I leave it hanging loose and tiptoe out into the hallway.
“I’m in here,” Beaufort says, standing by the chest of drawers he caught me at days ago. He’s holding a glass of broth in his hands. “It has pain-easing qualities. It will help you sleep.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking it from him. “Do you have something I can put it in? I’m worried I’ll have spilled it all by the time I get back to my room.”
“You can sleep here tonight,” he says casually. I raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugs and buries his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ll be much more comfortable. That bed in your room is shit, whereas this one …” He tilts his head towards his bed and I follow my gaze that way. “Plus there’s a hot water bottle waiting for you.”
The bed is huge with so many pillows and blankets I could roll myself up in. It’s so tempting, especially as the soothing effects of the bath are fading.
I obviously have a serious lack of willpower today. These men are wearing me down.
That may have to be tomorrow-Briony’s problem, though, because right now I want to curl up in that bed and sleep.
“If you’re expecting …” I nibble on my lip, because he’s asking me to climb into his bed after all and I am not naïve, that has some definite connotations.
“I’m expecting you to get a good night’s sleep. I doubt you’ve had one since you got here.”
I don’t tell him I’ve slept pretty well, that my bed in the tower may be shit but at least it’s a bed and not the cold hard floor.
“Okay, then.”
He raises his eyebrows. “What? No argument?”
“Your bed does look amazing.” I sigh. I gulp down the draught and Beaufort walks me towards the bed and sweeps back the cover. There, as promised, is a fluffy-looking hot water bottle.
Feeling pretty self-conscious, I climb into bed, hugging the hot water bottle to my stomach and rolling onto my side.
Beaufort pulls the cover up around me and to my utter astonishment tucks me in.
“Good night, little thrall,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead, “sleep well.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Beaufort
I close the door of my bedroom and pad down the staircase to the lower floor. Thorne’s nowhere to be seen. For all I know, he’s still out there on the field, tossing around his magic. The dude seems even more obsessive and insular than usual.
