The confusion that had assailed her on first waking had given way to anger as she'd gone through the closet. There wasn't a scrap of her own clothing here, or at least, nothing she recognized as her own. Every single item hanging up was a negligee or nightie. There were various colors and lengths, from short skimpy blue baby dolls to long see-through crimson peignoirs, but every hanging item of clothing was some revealing nightwear suitable only for a honeymoon.
As for the drawers, they were full of thongs, stockings, and bikinis. There wasn't even one bra. And those shoes she'd noticed on first entering? They were all stilettos, a rainbow selection of them, one to match every peignoir hanging up. They were sexy as hell and useless in her current situation.
Letting her breath out slowly, Sarita turned and moved back into the bedroom and then paused, unsure what her next move should be. Her gaze slid to the door she suspected led into the rest of the building . . . and possibly to answers, but Sarita found herself moving away from it. She had no idea what was beyond that door and after discovering all the negligees and baby dolls in the closet, she wasn't sure she wanted whatever answers were waiting for her. But staying where she was didn't seem a good idea either, Sarita decided as she bumped up against something and turned to stare down at the bed.
Her gaze slid reluctantly to the unknown door again, but then quickly shifted to the French doors instead. At least there she could see what she was stepping out into, Sarita thought and moved around the foot of the bed to the first of the three sets of French doors. Pausing, she peered out at the terrace and jungle, and then glanced as far to each side as she could from her position.
The terrace stretched out in both directions, left and right, the jungle bordering its length like a privacy fence. She also saw that there was wicker furniture outside, but she didn't see any people around.
Sarita reached for the handle of the right door and turned it carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once it unlatched, she eased it open and then poked her head out far enough to get a better look around. There wasn't really much more to see than that the terrace ran around both corners of the building. Sarita couldn't tell what might lie around the corner of the building to her left, but to her right she spotted the rounded end of an in-ground pool sticking out just past the building.
After a brief trip back to the bedroom to unplug and snatch up the bedside lamp, Sarita slipped out onto the terrace and began to creep along the cold stone tiles toward the right. She slowed as she passed the last set of French doors of her room and neared another set. Hand tightening on the lamp, she leaned forward just enough to peek inside.
Her gaze slid over a large open living room. It stretched the entire length of this end of the building. Again there were ceiling fans, hardwood floors, and white walls, but there were also throw rugs, and pillows adding splashes of color. The furniture was of the large overstuffed variety rather than the wicker used in the room she'd woken up in. The room was empty of any human inhabitant.
Relaxing a little, Sarita continued to the corner of the building to survey the pool and its surroundings. The jungle bordered this area too, running around the teardrop-shaped pool and back on the other side of the building. There was a waterfall at the top end of the teardrop where water spilled lazily over rocks stacked twelve feet high before dropping into the pool. It was beautiful.
Unfortunately, she wasn't in a position to enjoy it, so Sarita moved along the terrace to the next corner of the building. This one led to the front of the house, where the jungle fell away, leaving sand to border the terrace and run twenty or thirty feet down to the shore and an empty dock. She looked out at the ocean briefly and then considered the solid front double doors of the house under the shady porch before turning to retrace her steps to the open door of the bedroom.
Sarita didn't stop there, but continued on to the next corner to peer around it. More terrace and French doors awaited but there was no sign of an actual person. Sarita moved to another set of French doors and repeated her cautious peeking routine. What she found this time appeared to be an office, also uninhabited. Her gaze slid over a dark wood desk and bookshelf-lined walls, and then she continued on to a small window. Knowing this would be a new room; she slowed and peeked cautiously through the high window at . . . another bathroom. Much smaller than the one off the bedroom, it was just a toilet and sink.
A guest bathroom, she supposed, and moved cautiously forward to the first of two sets of French doors beyond the bathroom. Sarita wasn't surprised when the first set of doors gave her a view of a kitchen, while the second revealed a dining area. She was surprised however that both rooms were just as empty as the rest of the house.