The Bed You Make
Chapter 8, conclusion
When Dara exited the bathroom ten minutes later, Stefan was no longer in bed. He had donned a silk robe and stood on the balcony staring out into the inky darkness surrounding Wyndemere. Dara turned on a single lamp and glanced at the bedside clock. It was barely three in the morning, too early not to go back to bed. She closed her eyes and grimaced. The fates were conspiring against her in every possible way. Not only did she need to explain to Stefan her earlier actions, but when she was done she would have to climb back into bed beside him and pretend to rest.
Dara grabbed her robe and slipped it on. She joined Stefan on the balcony and stared out into the darkness with him. “I was dreaming earlier.” It was, in equal parts, an apology and an explanation.
“I deduced as much,” Stefan replied. “The policeman Garcia, no doubt.”
Dara's ears grew hot. It embarrassed her to think that she had given Stefan a virtual play-by-play reenactment of the kind of foreplay she and Alex enjoyed. “Yes,” she admitted.
“Indeed.” The conversation lapsed into silence. “Who would have thought,” Stefan observed dryly, “when this night began, that I would be the one molested as I slept?”
The wry comment was so unexpected that Dara could not help but laugh softly. “Point taken,” she conceded.
“Perhaps now you and I might begin to put the awkwardness of our sleeping arrangements to rest, so to speak.” Stefan extended his hand to lead Dara back into the bedroom. After only a slight hesitation, she warily placed her hand in Stefan's warm hand.
Dara allowed Stefan to remove the plush robe she wore. Awkwardly she slid beneath the luxurious sheets he held aside for her. “Thank you,” Dara murmured.
Stefan lowered the lamp, throwing the room into muted darkness once more. “You are welcome.” Dara felt the bed shift slightly as he slid under the covers on his side of the bed.
Dara lay on her side and listened to the darkness. There was no way she would ever be able to relax enough to sleep with Stefan in the same bed. Initially she'd been afraid of her new husband's actions. But Stefan had been nothing but a gentleman toward her. No, time had proven that the actions Dara should be most afraid of were her own.
“I must clarify an earlier statement.” Stefan's voice gave Dara a start. She was so deep in her own thoughts that she'd almost forgotten his presence beside her. “I declared to you,” Stefan continued, “that Cassadine men were neither brutes nor rapists.” He paused. “But neither are they saints. A repeat of your earlier… performance – however unconscious – will be taken as an advance toward me.” The warning was clear. “Goodnight. Again.”
