IMOGEN'S POV
A gentle shake roused me from my slumber. "Mistress Imogen?" Maggie's voice filtered through my drowsy haze. "Dinner's ready."
"What?"
"I said Dinner's ready." Maggie repeated, "Would you prefer I bring it up if you'd rather not dine with Master Elijah?"
My eyes fluttered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Rich mahogany furniture, emerald walls, and the faint scent of Elijah's cologne. It wasn't a dream. I was really in his room - our room now.
"I'll be down shortly," I mumbled, pushing myself up. When had I fallen asleep?
Maggie nodded and quietly slipped out. I stumbled to the en-suite bathroom, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet.
