“Danielle . . . ” His lips flattened into a firm line. “I hope today helped you feel beautiful.”
For a short time, she’d almost believed it was true. “You certainly did your best to make me feel that way.”
As she sat up, he reached behind him and grabbed a plastic bottle, then held it out to her. “Drink some water before you stand.”
“I’m not thirsty.” She hated that she sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help it.
“I’m not asking, Danielle. Drink the water.”
Sighing, she uncapped the bottle. “Yes, Master.”
After she’d taken a couple sips, he slipped his arm around her back. “Up you go.”
She squirmed away from him. Why did he have to act as if he cared? “I don’t need your help.”
“Too bad you don’t have a choice. This is what we call ‘after-care.’ After a scene, it’s the Master’s responsibility to attend to the slave’s needs. Blood sugar drops, and you can experience dehydration.”
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “Chocolate and water.”
“Yeah. Chocolate and water. A blanket. A hug. A ride home or assistance to a room. Whatever’s necessary to ensure the health and welfare of the slave or in this case, you.” He picked up her clothes off the floor. “Turn around.”
Her breathing hitched as he encircled her chest and slipped her arms into the straps of her bra before hooking it in the back. Her skin felt tender, as if she’d spent too much time in the sun. Finding after-care to be far too intimate for her taste, she shivered when he helped her into her skirt and blouse.
He slowly spun her to face him and took her hands in his, interlacing their fingers. “Tomorrow, I’d like to show you the photographs.”
“Of course.”
He steered her through the gallery, a painful reminder of her status in his world, then past the jagged mirrors, where she discovered her disappointment was etched on her face. She didn’t understand why she cared so much about Cole’s intentions. They both had a job to do and a role to play. If anything, today had served as a reminder that everything that happened here may have looked, smelled, and felt real, but it was simply a mirage. As long as she remembered it, her heart would remain intact.
After Cole locked the gallery door, he splayed a hand on her lower spine and directed her to the kitchen, so he could take her upstairs to her room. A glance at the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway and the people littered around the main floor told her it was nighttime. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Had they really been in the studio all afternoon? No wonder she was so tired.
As they passed the foyer, a harried Gracie ran up the stairs from the dungeon, taking two at a time. Strips of black leather-looking material crossed in an X over her breasts, barely concealing her nipples, and ran down her sides until it merged with a piece that covered the juncture between her thighs. “Master Cole, we have a problem. Anthony Rinaldi has asked Cassandra to join him for electrical play.”
Cole stiffened and removed his hand from her back, his jaw tightening and eyes narrowing. “He knows he has to go through me or a dungeon monitor to scene with a trainee.”
“Yes, Master, but he refuses to listen,” Gracie said. “Not to mention Cassandra is arguing with the dungeon monitors as well.”
It figured Cassandra was at the root of the problem. The woman was literally a glutton for punishment.
Cole yanked his cell from his pocket and dialed, then raised it to his ear. “Michael, will you please have Anthony Rinaldi and Cassandra brought upstairs to my office?” He disconnected and frowned, his anger morphing into concern. “She wants to try electrical play with him? Have you explained he’s a sadist?”
“Oh, she knows.” Gracie folded her arms over her chest. “I’m certain this is one of her ploys for attention. She’s a brat, not a pain slut.”
Danielle admired how Cole immediately took charge of the situation, but it was clear he didn’t have time to worry about her well-being at the moment. She pasted on a fake smile and stepped back from him. “You obviously have your hands full with the club, and I’m fine to get myself to my room, so I’m going to go—”
“You’ll wait for me,” he said firmly. “This will only take a moment.”
Gracie glanced between them and seemed to pick up on the tension. “I’d be happy to take her upstairs, Master.”
He hesitated. “Thank you for your offer, but I’ll see to her myself.”
Danielle didn’t know much about after-care, but to her, his behavior reminded her of someone insisting he walk his date to the door. At this point, she didn’t see why Gracie couldn’t fulfill his Master obligations toward her.