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I waited for him to knock. When he did, I would say, “Come,” in as confident a voice I could muster. It would almost certainly come out a squeak.
He would stare at me, eyes agog, mouth hanging open.
“Hi,” I would say, taking control of the situation. “Why am I laying here like this? I always lay like this. Is there something I can do for you?”
Yes. That was what I would do.
It wasn’t my fault if he ravished me and tore my clothes off.
I giggled at the idea.
No, don’t giggle.
Ladies don’t giggle. They sort of chortle in a deep voice.
Huh-huh-huh. Like that.
It wouldn’t be my fault at all.
So, I waited.
The shadow didn’t move.
And then it did move.
Away.
He hadn’t knocked. He hadn’t forced his way in.
No…
I sat up.
Damn him! Not again!
Hadn’t the kiss meant anything? Hadn’t he felt the electricity surging between the two of us?
Hadn’t he sensed I wanted him?
I moved for the door and threw it open. I leaned out and peered along the hallway in both directions.
He was gone.
Damn it!
I returned to my room and paced up and down with heavy, thudding footsteps.
You couldn’t treat someone like this! You couldn’t turn hot and cold whenever you felt like it!
Somebody ought to teach him a few lessons in manners!
But he was a lord. No one around here was going to do it. Somebody needed to take control.
And by God, if it had to be me, then so be it!
I threw the door open for the second time and marched headlong down the hallway in my bare feet. The castle was silent and my footsteps—to my ears—sounded like a charging elephant.
I turned two corners before I became a little concerned. The castle was full of red-blooded Titans armed to the teeth. And here I was, dressed in a thin negligee and nothing else…
