The giant Kindred looked at her, clearly surprised.
“My lady?” he rumbled, making the title a question.
“It comes to this,” Isla told him. “I want to get the ‘treatment’ my husband paid you to give me over with. So do your worst.”
And lifting her chin, she dropped the towel to puddle around her feet and spread her arms, displaying her naked body to him.
The Kindred’s black eyes—which now that Isla was closer, she could see were actually a very dark blue-gray—widened as he took her in.
“My lady?” he asked again and this time his voice was hoarse and she could see the enormous lump growing in his leather trousers.
A bolt of fear went through her, but Isla refused to give in to it.
“I said I’m ready for my treatment,” she repeated. “Now, Guard.”
For a moment he just sat there but finally he nodded.
“All right. Come into the sitting room—I’ve got everything set up.”
“The…my sitting room?” Isla felt her stomach do a slow flip. “What do you mean you have everything set up?”
“Come see.” He rose from the chair and she skipped back from him, her feet tangling in the dropped towel in her haste to escape.
“Easy, my lady!” Lightning quick, he reached for her and caught her by the arm in a firm but not painful grip. His touch saved Isla from falling “tush over teakettle” as her Nana would have said, but she still pulled away from him as quickly as she could.
The giant raised his eyebrows at her.
“You sure you’re ready to let me massage you, Isla? If you don’t even want to let me touch your arm, how can you want me to touch you anywhere else?”
“Keep my name off your lips!” Isla’s voice quavered though she tried to make it strong. “You…you may call me ‘my lady’ and that is all,” she went on.
He nodded gravely.
“As you wish, my lady. But are you certain you want that massage right now?”
“You heard my husband—I have no choice!” Isla flared. “Come, let us get it over with!”
She was very aware of her nakedness as she turned her back on him and walked slowly from the bed chamber to the sitting room. And there she saw something which made her heart stop in her chest.
Set up right beside the fireplace was a long, padded table with a hole cut in one end. There was a crisp white sheet on it and its height looked to be adjustable. Isla had never seen anything like it and she wondered fearfully what the hole was for.
“What…what is that?” she asked, stopping in her tracks to stare at it.
“A massage table,” the giant rumbled from behind her. “I had it brought it so I wouldn’t have to be leaning down too far—too damn hard on the back. It’s adjustable. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”
“No, I…we do not…ladies do not submit to such…such things in my part of the world.” Isla heard the fear in her own voice, nearly choking her. “But when Baslik tries to make me glow, he always has me stand before him while he…while he does what he likes,” she finished in a low voice.
“Well, that’s not how this is going to work,” the giant said. “You’re going to lay down on the table so I can get to you more easily.”
Terror had her by the throat but she tried to stay calm.
“Lay…on the table?” she repeated, feeling sick. At least when Baslik had her stand she had been on her feet, able to run—not that she ever did, she reminded herself bitterly. But lying down would make her so open—so vulnerable. So helpless.
“Yes, please lay on the table.” The giant came around to stand in front of her. Ducking his head, he attempted to catch her eyes. “My lady, I’m not going to hurt you,” he rumbled. “I know I’m big, but I know how to be gentle.”
Isla looked up at him. Through numb lips she whispered,
“I don’t believe you.”
Then, as though marching to the gallows, she went to the table and climbed onto it.
It was her fate and there was no avoiding it.
EIGHT
From the recorded logs of Sark, Hybrid Kindred Warrior and Security Specialist for Hire:
I have to take some time to collect my thoughts before I can get through this. I’m pacing in front of the fire, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. Isla is in the fresher again—I don’t know when she’s coming out.
She came out earlier and demanded that I give her the “treatment” her husband had ordered, then she dropped the towel she was wearing, showing that she was naked underneath.
It might seem like a brazen move, but I could see the fear in her big, dark eyes. Gods, she’s fucking gorgeous with all those curves, but I couldn’t focus on her body—all I could see was the terror on her face.