Aside from the French doors leading outside, there were also three solid wood doors in the room, all painted white to match the walls. One of the doors was in the wall opposite the bed, beyond the wicker furniture. For some reason Sarita suspected it was the one that led out into the rest of the house or hotel this room was in. She turned away from it for now, unwilling to leave the room dressed as she was.
Her gaze slid between the other two remaining doors. Both were in the wall the bed butted up against, one on either side of it, in fact. The one on the side she stood on was open, and Sarita found herself looking into a large white bathroom.
Moving to the doorway, she glanced around and saw that the honeymoon theme continued here with a tub built for two and a large glass-walled shower you could have fit most normal-sized bathrooms into . . . or two people having crazy monkey sex. There was also a long white marble counter with two sinks, a separate smaller counter with a chair and large lighted mirror for doing makeup, and a door leading to an entirely separate small room that turned out to hold nothing but a toilet and a bidet.
Sarita peered at them and was suddenly aware that she had to relieve herself. Sighing, she quickly slipped inside to use the facilities, her mind racing. A plethora of questions were chasing each other through her mind. Unfortunately, she had no answers and her mind was just running around in circles in her head. Where was she? What had happened? How had she got here? Whose clothes were these? And how had she got into them?
Sarita wondered about that as she noted that even the panties she wore weren't her own. A silky white thong was the only thing under the nightgown. Sarita did not wear thongs. She'd tried them once because they were so sexy-looking, but hadn't been able to bear the feeling of having a constant wedgie. What the hell was going on? That seemed to be the question that kept drumming through her head. The last thing she remembered . . .
Actually, her memory was pretty fuzzy just now. She had some vague recollection of a lab and a corpse and some nonsense about vampires, but it was all so disjointed and surreal in her mind that she felt sure it was some fragmented nightmare she'd had. She also had something in her mind about worry for her grandmother, but, again, it was so fragmented and fuzzy she wasn't sure whether it was real or a dream. For all she knew, what was happening right now was a dream too. Certainly she couldn't afford a vacation in a place like this.
Panic tried to climb up inside her, but Sarita forced it down. She was a police officer, trained to control her automatic responses and assess situations before deciding the best way to respond to them. So . . . she would assess, Sarita decided firmly as she finished in the water closet.
Stepping back out into the large bathroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the sinks. The sight made her blink. Her black hair fell in wild abandon around her face and over her shoulders. It and her tan skin were an amazing contrast to the sheer white, flowing gown and robe. She looked like she'd stepped out of a gothic novel . . . or a porno, she thought with dismay, noting how her tan skin and the white thong she wore were revealed through the sheer cloth as she moved. Fortunately, the way the material gathered at the neckline helped hide her breasts . . . mostly.
Clucking her tongue with irritation, Sarita quickly washed and dried her hands, using the soap and fluffy white towels provided. Their presence made her start opening drawers and cupboards in the bathroom to see what they held. She found loads of soap, shampoo, conditioner, towels, and washcloths in the cupboards under the sink.
Lifting the makeup tabletop next, she found more cosmetics than a woman could use in a lifetime. There seemed to be every shade of lipstick, blush, and eye shadow ever created, all brand-new and with their wrapping intact. There were also various eyeliners, mascara, tweezers, nail files, and clippers, and so forth in the same packaged state, along with a hair dryer, several different curling irons, from flat to huge curls, and hairspray as well as various hairbrushes and combs. Basically, anything a woman might need to make herself pretty for any occasion.
Sarita stood still for a moment, simply staring at what was available as she tried to understand what all of this meant. The sheer sexy nightgown, the makeup, the big bed . . .
"No," she muttered and then let the makeup tabletop drop as she whirled away to hurry out of the bathroom. The bedroom was still empty-that was all Sarita noticed as she rushed around the bed to the door on the other side of it. Her breath left her on a relieved sigh as she opened that one to find a walk-in closet stuffed with clothes and shoes.
Thank God! She could put on some real clothes and go find out where the hell she was and what was going on, Sarita thought. Her relief was short-lived, however. Within moments she was standing in the middle of the closet, forcing herself to breathe slowly.