Touring The Enemies Camp

Emma~

The shower in here is magnificent, and I never want to leave for as long as I live. Not just because I’d be able to avoid my evil murderous fiancé, but because of the water pressure, the sweet-smelling soaps, and the steam that is like my own personal heaven.

My bathroom barely had enough room for a shower, never mind a bathtub big enough to hold ten, and it’s closer to a full-blown spa. Who designed all of this?

When my fingers start to prune and my whole body is covered in a flush, I decide that it’s time to get out and hope that I’ve taken long enough to force Orion to vacate the area for more pressing matters. He has a business to run, not a hostage to stalk.

I hate the idea of wearing yesterday’s clothes, especially when sleeping in them all through the night, so I wrap the towel securely around myself and open the door. I’ve got no issues with wearing men’s clothing, and goodness knows he’s got enough to spare.

Regretfully, I didn’t check the room before entering, and while heading towards the wardrobe, I turn to see him sitting there on the bed still, staring at me with black eyes. Maybe I was wrong about the blue?

“Don’t you have a crime empire to run?” I ask with forced casualness, while ignoring the expression on his face that threatens to make my knees wobble. Fate is a cruel thing to make him so handsome, and I can only hope that I’m strong enough to keep moving past that.

“Finding a partner is kind of a big deal, at least to some of us,” he comments pointedly, but I ignore him. It is a big deal, just not a very good one in our case.

Raking through the wardrobe, I find a pair of shorts that I can tie tighter around my waist and a t-shirt that will cover me nicely. There’s no reason why I can’t re-use my bra, and going commando isn’t the end of the world, I guess.

Taking my bounty back with me into the bathroom, I refuse to give him so much as a glance. Hoping he takes it as a hint to leave me alone, but I’m starting to know better than to expect that.

When leaving the bathroom the second time, I can see that he’s gotten his arousal back under control and is finally dressed himself. Thank goodness, if I had to stare at him in his underwear one more time, well, let’s just say it wouldn’t have gone well.

“Care for a tour?” He offers, deciding against any witty comments or sarcasm, and I decide that I can do the same. My morals have no issues with being civil when it means that I have an opportunity to start collecting possible escape ideas.

It would be good to know all of my options. As even after he told me not to, I’ve managed to sneak my phone on the journey with me. Giving me a way of communicating with my family to warn them if the need arises, or just to have a reminder of who I was before I was brought here.

“Sure. But can I have a coffee or something first?” There’s not a chance in hell that I’ll be able to form an escape plan before my morning coffee.

“Shit, I forgot you won’t have eaten much last night.” His eyes go wide, and I laugh at the expression.

I’m not that hungry after that sandwich, but breakfast wouldn’t go amiss. I think last night has managed to quench any chance of an appetite, and in fact, I think I might have lost mine the minute Derek started telling me about Orion’s exploits. That even was before I knew what he has in store.

He opens the bedroom door before turning to look down at me and pausing for a second. I wait for his comment on my clothing being unsuitable and wonder what he can possibly do about it. He was the one who insisted on traveling light, so it’s either wearing a slept-in serving dress or looking like a teenage boy to meet his servants.

“I’ll have Donovan get you something to change into before we go,” he comments carefully, not wanting to provoke me, but I only shrug. I couldn’t care less how I look around here; the last thing I’ll worry about is what these people think of me.

The kitchen is practically empty, confirming my suspicions that this is indeed his place and not a crime house or whatever. There’s a cook standing there waiting for us, and it feels uncomfortable to think that someone else will be feeding me. I like doing that for myself.

“What, do you think I’ll let her poison you?” Orion comments sharply at the look on my face, and I only sigh.

Is it worth letting him know how I really feel about this? At least I’ll know for future reference how it’ll go down. “I prefer to cook for myself.”

Orion scowls at this. I could tell from the dinner yesterday that he’s not a fan of my occupation, but I’m not a fan of our relationship status either, if I could call it that, so he’s going to have to get over it if I’m made to stay here. At least I hope he’ll get over it; life without cooking is a bleak prospect.

“This is something you enjoy?” He asks, clearly unhappy but making an effort.

“Yes.” A massive understatement, but I fear that the more I say, the more rope I’ll give him to hang me with.

If he knows how deep my passion runs, he could start to use this against me when he wants things. If it’s just a preference, he might feel more inclined to extend an olive branch.

“You will only cook for me and you. No one else,” he draws the line, and that is certainly something I can live with, for now.

The chef is excused, and I make us a batch of pancakes and waffles while he takes the initiative to pour me a cup of coffee. Thankfully, he leaves it black, and I find cinnamon in the spices cupboard.

We eat in mostly silence, but I can see on his face that he’s reluctant to admit that he enjoyed the fruits of my labors. Not long after, Donovan walks in, bowing his head slightly of course, and drops several bags on the table in front of me.

“What’s all this?” I turn to Orion, and he tilts his head at Donovan to indicate that he should leave.

“Clothes,” he answers simply, and I roll my eyes while looking in the bags.

Everything is my size, ridiculously expensive, and very feminine. None of this is what I would expect to find in my own wardrobe, but rather than argue it, I find the least offending item and change in a downstairs toilet.

The woolen dress fits nicely, and I like how the green brings out the color in my eyes. I suppose there’s something to be said for dressing for yourself, and I walk confidently over to Orion, who is waiting for me by the front door.

He holds out a coat, and I put it on while commenting out loud on something that amused me while changing. “I didn’t take Donovan to be a personal shopper.”

“He’s whatever I tell him to be,” and just like that, Orion ends the conversation. Goodness help me.

The lawn is crisp when we step outside, and I refuse to acknowledge Orion’s offered hand over the icy steps to get there. Birds are chirping, a stream is flowing not far from here, and I’m surprised to find wildlife all around. I expected it to be more of a war camp than a pleasant estate.

The deeper we go, the more people we start to spot, and it’s surprising how many there are on his land and how normal they all seem. Naturally, every single head bows to us when we pass, but that’s on Orion, not them.

A few of the passers-by wave to me, and my inner people pleaser kicks in before my brain does, making me wave back and even smile a bit. I need to keep remembering who I am and what they do to be associated with a man like Orion. What they might have done to my family.

“You’ll make a good wife, Princess. You interact with them perfectly,” he compliments me after it happens again, and at that, I resolve to stare at the floor so that I can’t see them coming.

It might not be the same as actually snubbing them; I clearly can’t do that, but I’ll never be his wife, not if I can try and escape from it first.