Chapter 11

David, her new master, gave a snort of laughter. It was answer enough, though not exactly a polite response to Anissa asking if he were married. After his outburst, he shook his head with a somewhat hangdog expression. "Look around. Do you see any signs of a feminine touch?"

"No." She began to understand his humor

"Very good. No wife. No kids. I don't even have a dog."

He opened a closet and pulled out a large sack sewn of some material so shiny she could see no fibers. It was twisted shut with a paper-covered wire and David opened it, then removed a pillow and a puffy sort of blanket, folded in half and fastened that way with a row of interlocking metal teeth.

"It's a sleeping bag. I use it when I go camping." He tossed it onto the big settee sort of thing, which was three sides of a rectangle, with the open side facing the shelf-full of boxes. "I'd change the sheets on the bed for you but I don't have any others. I washed them yesterday, though, so they should be fairly clean."

He seemed to be bothered by what he felt was a breach of hospitality and she shook her head, reaching out to touch him on the shoulder. "I do not think you understand. I am only a slave. While it is nice to eat and drink, I cannot starve or die of thirst. You need not worry about my comfort. I am yours to command until your wishes are complete. You could command me to share your bed."

"They outlawed slavery in this country about a hundred and fifty years ago."

"Magic answers to a different set of laws."

"Yeah, I know that much."

That set her back. His flat delivery made her wonder just what he knew about magic and what had happened to make him such a believer. Had so much changed in the past eighty years?

"Slave or not, Djinni or not, right now you're a guest in my home. And though I have roughly a million and a half questions for you, at the moment I'm too tired to think straight, not to mention that I've had most of a six pack tonight. So we're going to call it a night and in the morning, we'll eat breakfast and then we'll figure things out. That sound reasonable to you?"

It sounded more reasonable than anything she'd heard in several centuries, though it was still a rejection of a sort. In fact, the gruff solicitousness in his tone was causing tears to prickle behind her eyelids. She blinked hard and nodded.

"There are fresh towels in the bathroom upstairs if you want to take a shower. There might even be a spare toothbrush." Then he paused. "Your last experience with any of this was in the nineteen twenties, right?"

She nodded.

"So half the stuff I'm telling you means absolutely nothing, does it?"

She shook her head.

"Come on." He took her hand and tugged her with him toward the stairs. "You can sleep in the sweatshirt you're wearing. I'll find you a clean one in the morning. Will you be warm enough in that?"

Under that decadent down quilt of his? She would roast like a Christmas goose. But she simply nodded. "This will be fine. Thank you."

"Toothbrushes were around in the twenties, weren't they?"

"I am familiar with the concept." She tried and failed to keep the note of laughter out of her voice but he did not appear to be offended. He led her through his bedroom into an attached bathing area that was larger than many bedrooms she had seen.

"Shower is there." He gestured at a glass-walled enclosure. "Help yourself to the soap, shampoo, whatever. I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of girly stuff." There was an enormous tub, with little nozzles in the side, along with the usual lavatory appointments. He opened a built-in cupboard. "Towels and washcloths in here, use what you want. He held out a small orange brush, sealed in a clear crinkly material. "Aha. Toothbrush. Brand new, from my last trip to the dentist. Toothpaste is right there." He pointed at a long tube sitting next to the sink. "Need anything else?"

"No." She fingered the brush, fascinated with the crinkly wrapping. Cellophane, maybe? It was a material with which she unfamiliar.

"You've never seen plastic, have you?" His voice was soft and comforting, not derogatory.

"Plastic?"

He tapped the packet in her hand. "This stuff. Almost everything is made of plastic these days, in one form or another. The toothbrush, the wrapping, hell even the bathtub."

She turned to run a hand over the smooth surface she had assumed was marble. But where marble would have been cool to the touch, this surface was as warm as the air. "How odd."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "Very. Look, I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Get some sleep."

She was not sleepy at all. Time was different in the box and though she slept sometimes, she had no real sense of day and night. She knew from experience that it would take her a couple days in this time to adapt to the daily rhythms. If she was here that long. What she truly wanted was for him to take her to his bed and satisfy the unfamiliar yearning he seemed to arouse in her heavy breasts and aching loins. But he was being so sweet and kind, she did not have the heart to tell him and she had just enough pride left not to beg. "I will. Thank you."

"The pipes are old. It takes a few minutes to get hot water up to the second floor. So let the water run for a bit before you adjust the temperature. Don't want to burn yourself, or step into a freezing cold shower."

Now she knew he was as reluctant to leave her as she was for him to leave. His rapid breathing told her that he could possibly be aroused, yet he did not act on his desire. Could he actually be restraining himself out of courtesy to her? If so, she was not going to argue - not now. He had said he was tired. Tomorrow would be soon enough to change his mind. She touched his chest with her hand and gave him a little push. "I may not know about this plastic but I believe I can manage a bathtub. Thank you. I will be fine."

"You're sure?" He looked down at her with those soulful blue eyes. "I could..."

She stopped him by laying a finger over his lips. His beard and mustache were wiry and tickled her finger but the sensation was not unpleasant. And she had to reach up to do it. He was not terribly tall but she was short and the top of her head only came to his chin. "Sleep. I will be fine."

His lips briefly kissed the finger she had laid across them. The sensation made her knees flutter and her internal muscles clench. She could smell her own wetness, knew if he even hinted at taking her, she would fly to the waiting bed.

He grunted and she knew he felt the power that pulsed between them as well. But he remained the gentleman. "Okay, then. You'll yell if you need anything. Right?"

"Right, Professor David. And thank you. You have been very kind."

He shook his head. "Kindness is not one of my attributes." He pulled away from her then and walked to the door. "Goodnight, Anissa."

"Goodnight."