CALLEA glanced at her reflection on the big antique mirror in front of the hallway on the second floor on her way to see Deive. She scrubbed her face this morning and her skin looked glowing. Her hair was in place. Not a strand of her hair on her face.
Even the dress she was wearing was simple but decent. No traces of the white lady that terrorized Deive from the previous night. She could face him now with confidence.
When she reached the door of his room, she slowly knocked three times. "Deive!"
She clipped her hair behind her ear. She was not sure if Deive saw her face last night. She hoped he won't recognize her. She didn't want him to fear her. Her grandfather would surely disown her and kick her out of the mansion. She would be homeless and she shuddered at the thought.
She didn't hear a peep from Deive's room. He might be slumbering because he felt bad. She turned the antique door help. It was not locked.
She opened the door and stepped inside the room. He must wake up to eat breakfast and to drink his medicine afterward. She didn't want his condition to worsen. That would be another burden to his conscience.
She stilled when she saw that there was no one on his bed. She put the tray of food on the bedside table when the bathroom's door flew open. Deive suddenly came out of the bathroom wearing only in his robes. Its lapels were opened on each side and she caught a glimpse of his tanned, beautiful body. She saw a flash of light before her eyes and she felt like she was melting. Would she really marry this beautiful man? She was an artist and she could say that he had a perfect body.
Aside from his perfect body, he had a face to match. A few strands of his hair fell on his forehead and water dripped down his muscular chest and six-pack abs that were not hidden by the robe. He was a sensual demi-god. Like God created him to attract female species.
He already was sensual enough the other night. She couldn't get the image of his body the other night out of her mind. Wearing only pajamas and illuminates, moonlight shone on his skin like a caress. As if the moonlight wanted to glorify his whole being.
Yet his charisma doubled in daylight. She could visibly see his handsome face now. Her grandfather sent photos of him. The pictures didn't do him justice. He was gorgeous in person, hotter and very much alive. Sunlight made him more virile and yummy. Did he have any flaws at all? Why?
"Good morning!" she greeted and smiled.
He suddenly turned pale and his looked repulsed by her presence. "Who are you? What are you doing here? "
She wanted to feel hurt by his welcome. But she realized that he must be traumatized by what happened last night. Did she still look like the scary white lady despite her neat appearance right now?
She didn't know whether to laugh or to be insulted that he found her scary even if she was not wearing a costume.
"I am Callea," she introduced her self and reached for his hand. "We have not formally met yet."
He took her hand but also quickly dropped it as if he was scared that she would disappear or she would clutch him with her evil claws. When he realized that she was real and his hand didn't pass through her, he touched her once more. He grasped her with both hands this time "Nice! Your hand is warm. That feels good," he said with an appreciative smile. "Good thing it is finally morning."
His remark had no connection to their formal introduction but Callea understood well. It was morning so he was sure that she was not a ghost. Fear was swiped out of his face.
"I brought you brought food. Please eat your breakfast so you can drink your medicine afterward," she said and quickly took back her hand. His hands were cold and it worried her.
"I just took a shower and on my way down for breakfast. You shouldn't have bothered bringing me food. " He suddenly turned away when he sneezed. "Damn!"
"You are really sick."
"It is just cold."
"You don't have to hide it. Marina noticed that you were not feeling well. "
"You worry too much. It would be gone in a bit," he quipped and raised both hands. Then he forced a smile. He didn't look any better. In addition to his cold, she thought his head must be hurting, too.
She clucked her tongue "Just eat. Don't tell me you don't have plans to eat the food I cooked for you. You already missed dinner last night."
"I am sorry," he muttered in a weak voice.
He sat on the chair and faced the food. "Fine. I will eat." Perhaps he was embarrassed because she did not hide her disappointment he did not show at dinner the previous day. "Where is your food?"
Callea gave him a nod. "I will eat with Marina later. I want you to rest all day until I am sure that you are well."