A fire was crackling when I awoke. Idly, I wondered if I was still in the cave, in Duke's arms. I stretched reflexively, then winced.

I was sore, really sore, and I was in a bed.

It didn't feel firm like the hospital bed I'd woken up in the night before. And I knew this wasn't the bed from my dorm. No, this bed was soft, with fine satin sheets and a heavy comforter that smelled of lilac.

Curious, I eased an eye open to see the dank cave was gone, replaced by a beautiful bedroom. It was decorated in creams and pale blues, with light-colored wood furniture and softly polished metal fixtures.

Where the hell am I?

A dull ache resonated in my head as I sat up, and my hair was damp as it brushed lightly against my bare shoulder. I took a strand of it between my fingers, watching the dark blonde tress glisten in the firelight, when someone opened a door.

"Miss Ridley?"

It was the Dean, carrying a shiny silver platter. Momentarily caught off guard, he composed himself to place the platter on a small table next to the bed I was in. He went back to softly close the door he'd opened, then came to stand in front of me.

"May I?" He motioned to the bed.

I gave him a nod, and watched him gracefully sit down at the end.

"I brought you some tea and water," he said after a beat. "And some Advil, if you need it."

I glanced at the tray he motioned to, and reached out to retrieve it's contents.

"Allow me," he stood again to fetch the medicine and water that sat next to me. After I swallowed down the pills, Dean Lachlan exchanged the glass for the cup of tea.

"No thanks," I mumbled, folding my hands in my lap to quell their shaking.

Crestfallen, Dean Lachlan placed the cup back into the tray, and sat down.

Things got awkwardly quiet after that. The Dean was staring into the fire that snapped calmly in an ornate fireplace across from the bed. I fiddled with the comforter across my lap, then looked down to notice my clothes had been changed.

"Did you... did you change my clothes?"

He glanced over at me, a dark look flitting across his face. It reminded me of hunger, and it caused a lump to form in my throat.

"No," he finally replied. "You were cleaned up at the clinic."

I exhaled almost audibly. "Oh," guess that's why my hair was damp.

"Are you cold? I could stoke the fire if you like."

"I'm fine, Dean Lachlan." It couldn't be further from the truth. Sitting alone with him in an uncomfortable silence, after all I had seen and experienced, I was anything but fine.

He seemed okay though, considering he was nearly lifeless in a torture chamber last I saw him. The image of him hanging on that X with deep gashes in his arms suddenly popped into my head, and I felt my heart ache.

"You don't have to do this." I whispered solemnly.

"Do what?" His white brows furrowed as he shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed.

"Take care of me."

I averted my gaze, opting to stare at the dark hardwood floor. He didn't reply, so I rambled on to fill the silence.

"You were tortured. You should be resting in a hospital, not here taking care of me."

I didn't realize I was crying until a tear landed on my hand. Hastily, I moved to wipe it away when the Dean tilted my chin up.

"I will always take care of you, Miss Ridley."

"But why? What am I to you?"

I stared into his crystalline eyes, searching, pleading for an answer.

Finally, he sighed, briefly skimming his thumb across my bottom lip. But he didn't speak. Instead, he inched closer, effectively bridging the gap between us.

"Everything," he breathed, staring at my mouth. "You are everything to me."

My heart skipped a beat.

I was everything to him? Surely he didn't mean that, he couldn't have.

"But we barely know each other." I offered, finding my gaze drifting to his parted lips. I fought the urge to touch them, to see if they were as soft as they looked, when he gave me a knowing smile.

"That can be rectified," he paused to straighten up, releasing my chin and taking my hand in his. "But first, you should eat."

He placed a feather-light kiss on top of my hand just before a knock sounded at the door.

"Ah, that must be breakfast."

Breakfast? What time was it?

Giving me an almost boy-like smile, Dean Lachlan got off the bed to answer the door. Seconds later, he pulled a small cart into the room, and parked it at a little dining table across the room.

"Care to join me?" He motioned to a chair at the table.

It hadn't dawned on me until then, but I was wearing a camisole...a white camisole... without a bra.

Suddenly, I was self-conscious, acutely aware of how visible my breasts were beneath the fabric. I felt my cheeks redden and my ears heat up, and I instinctively pulled the comforter up to my chin.

"Are you alright?" Dean Lachlan looked puzzled, concerned. "You look a little flushed."

His question only made me blush brighter. Then, a thought occured to me.

"Um, I'm a little chilly, actually." I responded shakily. "Do you have a robe I could borrow?"

My nipples were hard, hypersensitive to the thin shirt that covered them. Had that been the reason why he asked if I was cold earlier?

The idea made me want to hide under a rock.

"Of course," he smiled politely, and went over to a wardrobe near the door. "It's a little big, but you're welcome to use my robe if you like."

I glanced at the blue fabric and nodded, indifferent to it's size.

"Royal blue--I think the color will suit you quite nicely." He smirked, as if enjoying some private joke.

I waited for him to turn around before slipping the robe on, quietly gasping at the lacy white underwear that barely covered my bottom.

Who in God's name dressed me like this?

Certainly the clinic staff wouldn't discharge a patient half dressed.

"Apologies for your attire," the Dean began as I sat down at the table. "In hindsight, having Aiden fetch you something to wear probably wasn't the best idea."

"You think?" I mumbled dryly. Then, I did a double take. "Wait, Aiden picked out my clothes? So he's okay?"

The Dean nodded.

"What about Duke? And Nero and Lucius?"

"They are all perfectly fine, Miss Ridley." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No worse for wear, all things considered."

I felt myself lighten, and sagged back into my seat. Thank God they're okay.

Leave it to Aiden to pick out the sluttiest outfit possible. Of course, I wasn't surprised. However, I was surprised by how eager Dean Lachlan was to get me out of bed.

He didn't seem the pervy type.

"So, you were really going to let me parade around in my underwear, huh?" I asked slyly.

He went rigid for a fraction of a second, then visibly relaxed. "To be honest, I had forgotten about your, um, lack of dress. But it is refreshing to see a young lady embrace the notion of modesty. That's a rare trait to have these days."

"Uh-huh," I didn't buy it, but didn't press the matter further. Instead, I nodded to the silver goblet in his hand, and asked, "is that all you're having?"

"It's all I need," he paused to take a sip. "Well, it...and you."

I felt my pulse quicken.

"And why do you need me, exactly?"

"Because a king is nothing without his queen."

:*