The Baron and his Lady

Fifty-one: Storm of questions

Blanchè Hotel

I couldn't think of something to tell him. His tone had no hint of malice in it. My mind went through several things that could happen, most of them us ending down the bed.

I was shaking and my teeth was gritting. My brows felt damp and I could tell sweat was forming up there. My mouth was dry and my heart was about to explode out of my chest. The fur jacket did little to ease my tension and to make matters worse Lucian wasn't even doing anything.

As soon as he closed the door , he merely asked me where he was at the conversation. Because I said nothing he then asked if there was anything I needed. When I shook my head he just moved away and poured himself a drink.

You're so silly Krista, I told myself. Why on earth did I thought he meant something sexual? That was just a fleeting question. He's obviously not dying to get in bed me. With his looks he could just snap his fingers and the ladies outside would come running on all fours.

I sighed.

I never thought it was this hard loving such a pretty man. The pressure and anxiety that there were others out there much prettier, curvier and sexier would snatch him up—it was crazy. I could never compete with those. I was still me.

"Whatever is eating you?" He asked.

I turned my attention to him and realized he's been sitting on the couch while I just stood there. He must've been doing that for a little while because his drink was almost out. I felt my cheeks burned up. I turned away and sat on the bed. There was nowhere else to sit without me tripping on these heels.

"This is a nice room." I blurted out.

He was silent.

Talk about awkward.

I wanted to slap myself. But what could I say? I pretty much lashed out about what I had been bottling up. He heard what I wanted him to hear. I felt no regrets surfacing. I knew I chose my words poorly when we were at Enzo's cottage. But it was the truth. He hurt me and it broke my heart, terribly.

So, why are you here? I blinked. Was that my conscience talking? I waited if it'll say another word but there it didn't. Now I had to really think. If I've said my part, now should be the time to ask why they were in a hotel.

I cleared my throat but he cut me off, "Would you like to change? That dress must be uncomfortable." He asked sincerely. I could see in his eyes that he knew I hated dresses and knowing he remembered it sort of touched something in me. It felt weird but nice at the same time. The moment when the person you adored could recall a small detail was heart warming.

"I...umm. That sounds good." I looked around, "Do you have some spare shirt or something?"

"I'm afraid not."

"What?" I swear my head turned 180 degrees to meet his eyes, "Then what am I supposed to wear? If you had nothing here then why did you even ask if I wanted to change? Did you plan on getting me naked?"

"Hold your horses Krista. I had planned no such thing," he stood and pulled out a bag from the closet, "I prepared you a much preferable garment." He gave it to me and pointed where the bathroom was.

I took it and dashed away as fast as I could. God that was so embarrassing! He was clearly insulted, his angry face said so. I slammed the door and locked it. The bag fell on the floor and I followed suit.

Great job Krista. You just can't stop breaking the ice can you?
***

In about fifteen minutes I wrapped myself in a towel and with my right hand I wiped the mirror with a rag. The mist from the hot water fogged it. I jumped in the shower and rubbed the make up away. Whatever the remover couldn't remove was now falling down the drain. I felt much lighter and cleaner. I opened the bag and pulled out a set of blue pajamas.