“Do you like what you see?” He smiled.
I cleared my throat in embarrassment. “Yeah, sure. Now could you please help me?”
He walked over, opened the door, and asked me to hand him the shampoo from the shelf. As I handed it to him, he poured a small amount into his hand and began working it into my hair. I closed my eyes at the feel of his strong hands, massaging their way around my scalp. A tingling sensation started down below and my heart began pounding. Once he was finished shampooing my hair, he removed the showerhead from the wall and rinsed out the lather. I stood there, in a soaking wet towel, enjoying what this practical stranger was doing to me.
“Hand me the conditioner and I’ll put some on your hair. After I rinse it out, you can wash your body. Unless you would like me to do that for you?”
“No, I can wash myself, thank you very much,” I said as I handed him the conditioner.
After he rinsed my hair, he shut the shower door, and walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I finished my shower and began to feel somewhat human again. I grabbed a dry towel, wrapped it around me, and opened the door. I was startled to see Ian sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Jesus, I thought you left.”
“The name’s Ian, sweetheart, not Jesus.” He smiled. “I took the liberty of having some clothes and personal items delivered for you, since you have absolutely nothing. If you look in the drawer over there, you’ll find some bras and underwear.”
“How did you know what size I wore?”
“I looked at the bra you were wearing when I brought you here. By the way, I threw that one out. It was pretty nasty.”
How dare him.
“I’ll step out of the room while you change and then I’ll help you brush your hair.”
“Thank you, but I can brush my own hair,” I said as I gave him a dirty look.
“Suit yourself and we’ll see. You couldn’t wash your hair, so what makes you think you can brush it?” He sighed.
He left the room and I opened the drawer that displayed five different beautiful bras, in different colors. A couple of them were plain, but the rest of them were made of lace and sparkles. Each bra had matching panties that came in twos. One a thong and the other bikini-style. I put on one of the lacy bras, and I walked over to the double doors and opened them, revealing a large walk-in closet with built-in shelves from floor to ceiling. I’d never seen anything like this in person; only in the movies. On the shelves were a few pairs of pants that were neatly folded and a few shirts that hung on the rack. I dug through until I found a pair of black leggings. I grabbed a long, pink shirt from the hanger and slipped that on first. Putting on my leggings was difficult, but I managed. Soon, there was a knock at the door and Ian peeked his head through.
“Decent?”
“Yes, and I thought you left.”
“I wanted to stick around and watch you try to brush your hair. In the drawer of the vanity are the brushes and combs.”
I walked over and sat down at the vanity, opened the drawer, and took out a large brush. I started with my ends first, so I didn’t have to raise my arm any higher than necessary.
“For f**k sake, Rory, give me the damn brush,” he said as he walked over and grabbed it out of my hand.
“Do you need to curse?”
“I apologize,” he said as he gently brushed my long hair.
I stared out the window as each brush stroke relaxed me more and more. “How was your soup?” Ian asked.
“I despise chicken soup. But I will admit that Charles made it pretty good.”
“Why do you despise chicken soup? Everybody loves chicken soup.”
I was in such a daze from the way he was brushing my hair that I didn’t even realize what I’d said.
“I used to love it at one time, when I was a little girl. But when it becomes the only food you are forced to eat every single day, you reach a point when you never want to eat chicken soup again.”
The movement of the hairbrush stopped as he stared at me through the mirror of the vanity. I didn’t realize it until I looked and saw his mesmerizing eyes staring back at me. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“Doing what?” he replied as he continued to brush my hair.
“Buying me clothes and helping me with my hair. Why?”
“You fell into my limo. What was I supposed to do? Kick you out and let you die?”
“You could have dropped me off at a hospital and left.”
“Perhaps, but I felt you would be better off here, given your circumstances. It’s not every day that a beautiful young woman falls into my limo with a stab wound. I was intrigued, and besides, you have no clothes; in fact, you have nothing.”
I smiled softly as I looked at him. He called me “beautiful.” No one had ever told me I was beautiful, except my mom.
“And there’s her smile,” Ian said.
He looked at his watch, set the brush down, took my hand, and helped me back to bed. “I have a date, and if I don’t go and get ready, I’m going to be late. So if you’ll excuse me, Rory, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And just like that, he was gone. Ian Braxton had a date. What would his date think about him harboring a wounded girl, helping her in the shower, and buying her sexy bras and thongs? It didn’t matter anyway; this was a world in which I didn’t belong. As I lay down and turned my head towards the window, I closed my eyes and fell asleep to the sounds of the waves lapping against the shoreline.
When I awoke a couple of hours later, I couldn’t seem to go back to sleep. I felt restless and like a caged animal, being cooped up in this room. When I looked at the clock, I noticed it was one a.m. I carefully got out of bed and opened the door as quietly as I could. I looked down the long hallway and to my right at the spiral staircase. I carefully pulled the door closed behind me, and I slowly walked down the stairs. I found my way to the back of the house and stepped outside the door wall. As I stood on the open patio, I breathed in the ocean air and light breeze that came my way. I sat down in the oversized lounge chair that faced the beach. As my mind began wondering if Ian was home, I heard laughter coming from inside the house. I slowly turned my head and caught a glimpse of Ian and his date heading up the stairs. I turned back and looked up at the stars that lit up the night sky. For the first time in my twenty-three years of life, I felt peace. I closed my eyes and thought about Ian walking up those stairs with that woman.
****