The Bed You Make
Chapter 35, concluded
Dara hadn't decided whether to blame an errant sliver of sunlight or an unaccustomed state of laziness for her sudden wakefulness. Maybe it was a combination of the two. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to return to the deep sleep she'd recently enjoyed. After a few pointless minutes, she flopped over onto her back and sighed with resignation. Damn Stefan! Just like a scientist with a laboratory rat, he had surreptitiously conditioned her so that she could no longer comfortably lounge in bed past breakfast.
It really was a shame, Dara thought, to allow such comfort to go to waste. The bed was even larger than theirs at Wyndemere, the sheets – if possible – were just the barest bit softer. This was a bed made for enjoying. Dara wriggled her hips experimentally. No squeaky springs here, she observed. Some major league acrobatics could take place on this bed and no one would hear a thing…
Dara flew out of bed as soon as she realized where her thoughts had dangerously wandered. The tips of her ears burned and she glanced about the room, as though there was a chance her musings were somehow visible.
All thoughts of her own embarrassment vanished as an awe-struck Dara slowly took in the room. Instantly she recalled the conversation she'd had with Jenna, Wyndemere's talkative young maid, shortly before departing for Greece. The young woman had wished her a pleasant trip and then added with a superior smile that Dara would finally get to see the 'real' Cassadines … in their true element. Looking around her, Dara understood her claim. Stefan's room in this ancestral home carried a weight of history that Wyndemere could only hint at. Thick, dark wooden panels lay in stark contrast against stone walls, delicate carvings formed intricate patterns along the ceiling. Heavy drapes stood guard against the entrance of light from the thick glass windows high along the walls.
The room was venerable and imposing, yet as she examined it closer Dara could see touches of Stefan's hand at work. The corner table housing the laptop computer and fax machine, the state of the art stereo system and cabinet filled with both compact discs and vinyl albums, the glass bowl on the dresser filled with barely salted macadamia nuts – her favorite snack.
"I trust the accommodations meet with your approval?" Dara whirled about. She'd been so caught up in her examination of the room that she hadn't heard Stefan's entrance. A member of the staff that she had not had time to meet accompanied him, a tray of freshly cut fruit in her hands.
"Of course," she said. Dara was acutely aware that she stood before them clad only in Stefan's emerald pajama top and a pair of silken tap pants. "I was just looking for your secrets."
"Did you find them?" Stefan asked. His voice held a trace of amusement.
"You'll have to wait and see," Dara teased, well aware of the other woman's gaze fixed intently upon her. Deliberately she crossed the room and tilted her mouth up to Stefan's for a kiss. He complied with a gentle press of his lips against hers.
"You may put that down and leave," Stefan dismissed the maid without a glance. When she'd departed the room he silently acknowledged Dara's flawless act with a tip of his head. "I am pleased to see that you have grown more comfortable with your role," Stefan offered.
Dara shrugged and moved away. "Yeah, well, all of it wasn't an act. I think I really have learned some things about you from this room."
"You will have the opportunity to share them shortly," Stefan replied. "In forty minutes Mrs. Landsbury will retrieve your tray and assist you into your riding gear. I will expect you at the stables in one hour."
"The stables?"
Stefan nodded. "Yes. I would like to show you my home."
