"Oh, yes we did!" She ran for the safety of the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
Clenching his teeth, Julian had the sudden urge to put his head through the wall in frustration. Why was she being so stubborn?
He looked down at his stiffened body and cursed. "And why won't you behave for five minutes!"
Grace took a long, cold shower. What was it about Julian that made her blood literally boil? Even now she could feel the heat of his body on hers.
His lips on her…
"Stop it, stop it, stop it!"
She was not some nymphomaniac who couldn't control herself. She was a Ph.D. with a brain-and no hormones.
Yet it would be so easy to just forget everything and spend the next month in bed with Julian.
"Fine," she said to herself. "Let's say you do crawl into bed with him for a month, then what?"
She soaped her body, her aggravation dispelling the last of her desire. "I'll tell you what. He'll be gone and you, sister, will be left alone again.
"Remember what happened after Paul? Remember what it felt like to wander around the dorm, sick to your stomach because you let someone use you? Remember how humiliating it was?"
Worse, she could still hear Paul's mocking laughter as he bragged to his friends and collected his bet. How she wished she'd been a man long enough to kick open the door to his apartment, and beat him to smithereens.
No, she wouldn't let herself be used.
It had taken her years to get over Paul and his cruelty, and she wasn't about to undo all that on a whim. Not even a gorgeous whim!
Nope, nope, nope. The next time she gave herself to a man it would be to someone who was committed to her. Someone who cared for her.
Someone who wouldn't disregard her pain and continue to use her body for his pleasure as if she didn't matter, she thought, her repressed memories resurfacing with a vengeance. Paul had acted as if she weren't even there. As if she were nothing more than an emotionless doll designed only to serve his pleasure.
And she wasn't about to let anyone, especially Julian, treat her like that.
Never again.
Julian walked downstairs and marveled at the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. It was funny how people took such small things for granted. He remembered a time when he too had never noticed anything as simple as a sunny morning.
Now, every one was truly a gift from the gods. A gift he would savor for the next month until he was again forced to live in darkness.
His heart heavy, he headed into the kitchen and to the large cupboard where Grace stored her food. As he opened the door, the coldness inside amazed him. He spread his hand out, letting the rushing air wash over his skin. Incredible.
He picked up various containers, but couldn't read the writing on the labels.
"Don't eat anything you can't identify," he reminded himself, remembering some of the disgusting things he'd seen people eat over the centuries.
Bending over, he searched until he found a ripe melon in a bottom drawer. After taking it to the island in the center of the kitchen, he picked a large knife out of a block where Grace kept a dozen of them, and cut it in half.
He sliced a piece of it off and placed it in his mouth.
Julian growled low in his throat as the delectable moisture washed over his tastebuds. The sweet pulp made his stomach rumble with a demanding need. His throat ached for more of its soothing wetness.
It was so good to have food again. To have something with which to quench his thirst and hunger.
Before he could stop himself, he set the knife aside and started grabbing at the melon, shoving pieces of it into his mouth as fast as he could.
Gods, but he was so hungry. So thirsty.
It wasn't until he found himself clawing at the rind that he became aware of his actions.
Julian froze as he stared at his hand covered with the melon's juices, his fingers curled against the side like the claw of some beast.
"Roll over, Julian, and face me. Now, be a good boy, and do what I tell you to. Touch me here. Mmm… yes, that's it. Good boy, good boy. Please me well, and I'll bring you some food in a little while.
Julian flinched at the unbidden memory from his last incarnation. No wonder he acted like an animal; he'd been treated like one for so long, he barely remembered being human.
At least Grace hadn't chained him to her bed.
Yet, anyway.
Disgusted, he glanced around the room, grateful Grace hadn't seen his lapse of self-control.
His breathing ragged, he grabbed the melon half and pitched it into the trash receptacle he had seen Grace use the night before. Then he moved to the sink to wash the sticky sweetness from his hands.
As soon as the cold water touched his skin, he sighed in pleasure. Water. Pure and cold. It was what he missed most during his confinements. What he craved hour after hour as his parched throat burned and ached.