Page 43 of Irish Savior

Page List


Font:  

My little doll.I lean into his caress even though I know I shouldn’t, still trembling. I want to beg for him to touch me again when he pulls his hand back, but he stands up, reaching for a towel.

“I told you a hot bath would set you right.” He reaches for me then, lifting me up with his usual businesslike efficiency, setting me on the stool as he begins to dry me off, wrapping the towel around me as he reaches for the comb. “More tea, and you’ll have a good night’s sleep. All will be well in the morning,poupée.”

Even without the tea, I can feel sleep starting to crowd back in, my eyelids heavy after the hot bath and orgasm. The comb trailing through my wet hair is soothing, his hands on my head and neck equally so, and by the time he’s braided my hair and dressed me in the pajamas again, I feel half on my way back to sleep.

I drink the tea he brings me anyway, even though I know there must be a sedative in it again. The thought doesn’t frighten me the way it did earlier, and besides, I know there’s no way around it. Alexandre sits on the edge of the bed as he watches me drink every drop, taking the chipped china cup away from me as he tucks me back into bed, his fingers lingering on my cheek as he smiles at me.

“Bon nuit, petit,”he says gently, standing up to leave. Halfway to the door, he stops, silhouetted in the darkness, and I feel my breath catch in my throat, half hoping that he plans to come back to me. To slide into bed next to me and finish what I started.

“I’ve heard through the grapevine,” he begins, then pauses. “MonsieurEgorov. Alexei. Do you wish to know what happened to him?”

My heart nearly stops in my chest.Alexei.The name sends a thrill of fear through me, pushing all thoughts of desire to the back of my mind.

“Is he dead?” I ask softly, my voice carrying through the darkness.

There’s a moment’s silence, and I wonder if Alexandre will answer at all.

“Yes,” he says finally, and a feeling that I can’t describe washes over me. It’s not relief or happiness—it’s something else, something close to elation. Happiness beyond happiness, a feeling of freedom, even though I’m still as much a captive of Alexandre’s as ever.

Out of the men who hurt me, one unequivocally cannot. Not ever again.

“Do you want to know how it happened?” Alexandre asks, his back still to me, and I let another beat of silence pass, considering.

A part of me does. But at the same time, I don’t know if I want more violence to haunt the nightmares that I already have.Maybe it’s enough, just to know that he’s dead.

“Not yet,” I whisper, my throat closing around the words. “Maybe eventually.”

“I’ll keep that to myself for now then,petit,” Alexandre says. He moves forward then, towards the door, only to pause once more with his hand on the knob. “I will tell you this much,petit, so that it may ease your suffering.”

The silence between those words and the next feels weighted with meaning, and I feel my breath catch in my throat, waiting to know what he’ll say.

“He died slowly,petit. Screaming.”

And then Alexandre opens the door and slips out into the hall without another word, leaving me there alone in the darkness.


Tags: M. James Romance