Xhex flexed up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his.
Oh, so soft. Her lips were incredibly soft. And gentle. And very warm.
The contact was far too fleeting, but then again, he was ready to go for hours and hours and call that almost long enough.
"Come lie with me," she said, opening the door to the shower and stepping out. "I don't like you on the floor. You deserve much better than that."
Dimly, he shut off the water and followed her, accepting the towel she handed him. They dried off together, her wrapping her whole torso up, him covering his hips.
Outside, he got up on the hospital bed first and it felt like the most natural thing in the world for him to open his arms wide. If he'd thought about it, he wouldn't have made the gesture, but he wasn't thinking.
Which was okay.
Because she came to him as the spraying water in the shower had, drenching him in a warmth that leached through his skin and into his marrow.
But of course, Xhex went even farther through him than that. She always had.
Seemed like he'd lost his soul to her the very first time he'd laid eyes on her.
As he clicked off the light and she settled even closer to him, it felt like she was burrowing right into his cold heart and setting up shop, her banked fire thawing his soul out until he took the first honest-to-God deep breath in months.
John closed his eyes, not expecting to sleep.
He did, though. And very, very well.
THIRTY
In the staff room of Sampsone's mansion, Darius concluded his meeting with the daughter's maid.
"Thank you," he said as he rose to his feet and nodded at the female. "I appreciate your candor."
The doggen bowed low. "Please find her. And bring her home, sire."
"We shall endeavor to do just that." He glanced at Tohrment. "Would you be so kind as to show in the steward?"
Tohrment opened the door for the tiny female and the pair left together.
In their absence, Darius stalked around the bare floor, his leather boots making a circle about the ledger desk in the center of the room. The maid knew naught of relevance. She had been utterly open and unassuming-- and added absolutely nothing to the puzzle.
Tohrment came back with the steward, and resumed his stance right beside the door, staying quiet. Which was good. Generally speaking during interrogation of the civil variety, you didn't need more than one inquisitor. The boy had another utility, however. His shrewd eyes missed nothing, so perhaps there was something he would pick up on that Darius missed during the discourses.
"Thank you for speaking with us," Darius said to the steward.
The doggen bowed low. "It shall be my pleasure to be of service to you, sire."
"Indeed," Darius murmured as he sat down on the hard stool he had used when speaking with the maid. Doggen by nature tended to value protocol and therefore they would prefer those of higher station to be seated in this situation while they stood. "Whatever are you called, steward."
Another low bow. "I am Fritzgelder Perlmutter."
"And how long have you been with the family."
"I was born unto them seventy- seven years ago." The steward linked his hands behind his back and straightened his shoulders. "I have serviced the family with pride since my fifth anniversary of birth."
"Long history. So you know the daughter well."
"Yes. She is a female of worth. A joy to her birthed parents and her bloodline."
Darius watched the steward's face carefully. "And you were not aware of anything . . . that would lead one to expect such a disappearance."
The servant's left eyebrow twitched once.
And there was a long silence.
Darius lowered his voice to a whisper. "If it eases your conscience, you have my word as a Brother that neither myself nor my colleague shall reveal what you say to anyone. Even the king himself."
Fritzgelder opened his mouth and breathed through it.
Darius remained in silence: Pushing the poor male would only slow the process of revelation down. Indeed, he was either going to talk or not, and encouraging him would but delay his decision.
The steward reached into the interior pocket of his uniform and withdrew a bright white handkerchief that was pressed into a precise square. Blotting at his upper lip, he fumbled to put the thing away.
"Nothing shall breach these walls," Darius whispered. "Not a thing."
The steward had to clear his throat twice before his thready voice materialized. "Verily . . . she was above reproach. That I am certain of. There was no . . . consort with a male about which her parents were unaware."
"But . . ." Darius murmured.
At that moment the door swung wide and the butler who had let them into the mansion appeared. He seemed totally unsurprised by the meeting and utterly disapproving of it. No doubt one of his underlings had tipped him off.