Charlotte pulled her left hand from the water, the bathwater dripping through her cupped fingers, to her right arm was out of the water since the wound was still healing and squeezed it to make sure that the pain was there since she had let her heart run rampage for too long now. She was not a sucker for pain, but in that instance was glad that it was real.
She needed to wake up from her dream. Many lives were on the line, yet here she was daydreaming and whatnot. Charlotte tilted her back, resting on the harsh curve of the bathtub, and tried to encompass the feelings that were pouring off her that was hot and cold. It was undeniable to say that she truly enjoyed it, the sex.
Charlotte dumped water over her head and wiped her eyes, leaning her restless body over to the side. She had never had to struggle with having crushes or relationship problems since she was uninterested all through high school and college.
Sure, those around her would love to make a fuss about who liked who, but Charlotte always politely waved off their offers of partying and whatnot. Sure, she was lame, but at least she wasn't wasting her time.
Now that Vincent was shoved in every thought and gotten under her skin, she didn't know how to react, because she was uncomfortable. It was better that she was on his good side rather than not since he could very well hold her well-being in his hands. Charlotte didn't even know if she liked the man, but there was an irresistible connection that was drawing her nearer.
She finally stood from the bath, knowing that she couldn't be a coward and hide out in the bathroom. The water droplets slid down her naked skin, and she swiped underneath her chin, as she reached for the towel hanging on the rack next to the frosted windows to wipe herself off.
Charlotte pulled open the bathroom door, and the puffs of steam ran into the bedroom, the warmth clouding the ceiling. Her eyes darted around the room, but Vincent was nowhere to be seen.
There was a magnificent dress lying at the end of the bed, however, and Charlotte quickly slipped it on, not minding how the soft fabric rubbed over her raw breasts. She didn't know if it was another dress of Vincent's late mother, but he didn't bring it up when she saw him last.
Her undergarments were soiled that day, and she didn't have any on when she awoke. Charlotte sighed and decided it was best to not think too deeply about it with the telling sign of a flush working up her neck. She spun once in the long mirror that was adjacent to the bed, next to the nightstand closest to the bathroom door.
The ribbons hung down freely from the straps of the lavender-colored dress that had a jeweled overlay on the front torso that twisted down her torso and blended into the thick waistband with a satin bow in the back.
She left her hair loose to dry and pulled open the doors of the bedroom to find where Vincent had run off to. Charlotte twisted the knob of the ebony door closed and turn to see that he was leaning on the wall patiently for her. He was on the phone, and Vincent loosened his tie when he began to get worked up, his voice raising slightly, answering the receiver.
Charlotte tilted her head in question, and Vincent motioned her over. She walked over to him, and he ran a hand through her hair that was curling over her shoulders. He pulled his phone away from his ear.
"Sorry. The vigilantes are acting up, and they want me to trace them."
Charlotte grimaced. "Right now?"
"Soon. We need to change your look since they know what you look like."
"I don't think that my hair color will change that much."
Vincent slanted a look at her. "Please?"
Charlotte smirked. "It's fine. I'm not too attached to my hair either, so you can cut it."
Vincent shook his head. "Your hair is gorgeous. It's up to you if you want to."
"I think its length fine as it is then," she said. "When am I going back?"
"To the city?"
"Yes."
"I'll wait to see that your wound is fully taken care of first," Vincent said. "I would hate for it to scar."
Charlotte glanced at her bandage. The doc said it wasn't deep, but it was quite serious. She hoped for no scarring either, but she wasn't complaining if she was able to move her arm regularly with no compensation. Judging by the quality of her care, she wouldn't have to worry as much.
"Okay," she agreed. Charlotte could hear the receiver shouting something, the intent hostile, as her gaze fixed on the smartphone.
Vincent nodded before picking back the phone and sighing. "Stone, I'll meet with you in less than forty-eight hours. I will give you some information then."
He ended the call, and Charlotte brought her hands to her mouth to cover her laugh. Vincent's eyebrows went up at her reaction.
"Sorry," Charlotte said with her lips hiking up. "I don't think he's too happy."
"He's not. It'll come back to bite me later, but I can't do all the work for their incompetent idiots."
"No truer words spoken, Vincent."