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Dang. No panties. Although... Going commando under such a prim and proper dress struck her as highly provocative, and she grinned.
In the private bathroom, she stumbled upon her satchel. Giddy, she dangled the dress on a robe hook, dropped to her knees and rooted through her belongings. Her jewelry. Her flask. Her toiletries. Everything remained but her elderseed. Which she’d be getting back. She’d carried it through the forest, so she’d earned it.
Wait. She didn’t recall seeing this amethyst armband before. Or this pearl brooch. Or this tiara with crystals shaped like roses. No doubt the pieces were double the worth of her farmhouse, and she marveled. Looked like her love of jewelry hadn’t faded, even without the boots. Which meant it came from Cookie herself.
Maybe the clothes highlighted different aspects of her own personality. Hadn’t Kaysar alluded to that fact?
Kaysar, who had just given her the jewelry? For free?
She really needed to speak with him about...well, everything.
Her tasks gelled. Shower and dress. Without panties. Find Kaysar.
With new purpose, Cookie gathered her toiletries and entered the shower stall. But, uh, where were the knobs? She searched this way and that, up and down, but...no knobs. There wasn’t even a spout.
“Help a girl shower on her own, while awake,” she complained.
And just like that, water spilled from the ceiling, raining over her. The icy liquid made her squeal. “Too cold. Need heat.”
Again, her words caused instantaneous action, the spray warming until it scalded like acid. Her preferred temperature.
Cookie scrubbed from head to toe, then exited the stall, saying, “Off.” As hoped, the waterfall ceased.
Standing on a bathmat, she scanned for a towel. But there was no need. Warmth wafted from the mat, drying her from head to toe. A girl could get used to this.
At the sink, she discovered a note from Kaysar. Only, it wasn’t written on a piece of paper or even blood. The words appeared on the steamy mirror. Drink me. You’ll like it. An arrow pointed to clear, minty-smelling liquid in a small glass decanter.
A type of mouthwash? A drug? Bottoms up. Like Alice in her Wonderland, Cookie drained the glass. The minty liquid fizzed against her gums and on her tongue, seeming to scrub every inch of her mouth. The fizzy sensation spread through the rest of her, infiltrating her stomach, then her chest, then her veins, and oh, that felt nice.
As the fog faded from the mirror, Kaysar’s note disappeared, and her reflection came into focus. Her hair had darkened to a stunning black. And her eyes...the left was green, while the right was silver.
But, she was naked. Did her appearance change with her moods as well as her clothes? With her actions? Was the elderseed responsible? Or something else entirely? Would Pearl Jean and Sugars even recognize her? She looked different, smelled different. Acted different. Her very DNA had changed.
Ignoring her dismay, Cookie anchored her hair into a severe knot at her nape, with no strand out of place. No other style would complement her amazing dress. Which she donned, amazed all over again as the garment cinched to her curves, creating a seamless fit.
The desire to square her shoulders and straighten her spine proved undeniable. A desire she heeded, feeling as if she’d exchanged a worry-prone avatar for a military general. Or head mistress.
Madam Cookie.
Her thoughts cleared and sharpened, the dismay fading. She almost smiled, but humphed with disapproval instead. Which jewelry should she don? The pearl brooch caught her notice. She pinned the beauty over her heart.
As unhurried as any stern matron, Cookie headed for the door. Which swung open before she reached it.
Kaysar strode inside the bedroom, the sight of him arresting her. He wore all black, his dark hair was gloriously windblown and spiky. He’d trimmed his beard, a thick shadow dusting his jaw.
For some reason, metal claws adorned only one of his hands today. Combat boots and an assortment of weapons added to his drool-worthy appeal.
Even as her body reacted with a dizzying rush, the dress served her well, helping her maintain a stoic expression. If she was going to sleep with this man—and she might—she required a level head about the matter.
“You are awake, as Eye predicted.” He glided closer, sweeping his gaze over her and stopping midway. Hot, blatant desire glittered in his eyes. As smooth as whiskey, twice as intoxicating. “You chose the disciplinarian.”
She didn’t fidget, just allowed him to look his fill, revealing nothing.
“If you’re curious to know whether or not I examined your naked body as I bathed you, allow me to put your mind at ease,” he said. “I did. The entire time. I have no regrets.”
“As if you are strong enough to resist this.” She waved a hand to indicate her curves, certain she presented a picture of grace, elegance and sophistication. Most likely perfection, too.
