Dark Stranger Immortal (The Children of the Gods #3)(60)
The poor things didn’t know any better.
If a girl heard all throughout her life that she was worthless, and her education was limited to basic literacy at best, she was going to believe it, buying into the label she’d been given and perceiving herself that way.
Thinking back to her own youth in Scotland and even later in their new home in America, the situation for women had been only slightly better.
Though they were not as badly mistreated as their counterparts in Navuh’s region, the prevailing attitude, sadly, had been similar up until recent times.
Women had been considered not as smart and not as capable as men, but at least their mothering and homemaking skills had been appreciated. For most of her life, women had accepted these beliefs as immutable truths, treating the few that had tried to rise above them as bad mothers, misguided individuals, and an undesirable influence on their daughters.
Thank heavens this was changing. There was still discrimination in the workforce, with men getting better pay and faster promotions, but at least the West was on the right track.
Oh, well, her mother and the rest of their clan did what they could. But where Navuh had his clutches deeply in the hearts of mortals there was nothing to be done.
They were lost souls.
As was Dalhu.
The guy struggled against what he was, though, she had to hand him that.
But could he break free after the centuries of brainwashing he’d suffered?
As a scientist, Amanda knew there was no hope for him. But as a person, as a woman… well… hope was for children and fools—as Kian was fond of saying.
She wasn’t a child… so that left being a fool…
Still, hopeful or not, how was she going to get the guy disillusioned with her without getting him so enraged that he would chop her head off?
Dalhu was unstable, going from rage to affection in a heartbeat, and she was afraid of what he’d do if she told him the truth about whom he was planning to spend his life with.
Perhaps the smart thing to do was to bide her time and wait to be rescued.
But how would anyone even know where to look for her?
Damn. What to do… what to do…
Wait… but what if she let Dalhu have her…
Just so he wouldn’t kill her… of course…
That wouldn’t count as her going to him willingly, would it?
And if she didn’t suffer horribly in the process… well…
Now that she’d come up with a semi-moral excuse for sleeping with the enemy—only if it became necessary of course—her mood improved, and she hurried to finish soaping, shampooing, and conditioning before Dalhu got tired of waiting and decided to jump in the tub with her.
Having the option didn’t mean she should court that particular outcome, did it?
She finished drying off with the cheap, coarse towel and wrapped it around her body with a grimace. It was way too short, barely covering her butt.
Clutching the shitty towel so it would cover at least her nipples on top and the juncture of her thighs on the bottom, she walked out of the bathroom.
“Not a word, Dalhu. Not a fucking word…” she hissed at his ogling smirk, the cuss word feeling foreign and vulgar on her lips.
He arched a brow but said nothing. Grabbing a pair of gray sweats, he tore off the price tags and ducked into the bathroom she’d just vacated.
There was another set of sweats folded on top of the bed… pink… and plain cotton panties… also pink…
Her lips twisted in distaste. “Oh, goody, that must be for me.”
With a quick glance behind her, she made sure the bathroom door was closed, or as well as it could be, before dropping the towel. With a sigh, she reluctantly shimmied into the cheap panties and then pulled on the shapeless, polyester-blend sweats.
Her bare skin had never before touched anything as disgusting, and a glance at the mirror hanging over the bathroom door proved that she’d never before worn anything as ugly as this either.
She looked positively… well… blah.
The good news was that no one she knew was going to see her in this humiliating getup. Unfortunately, though, she was pretty sure that it didn’t make her look ugly enough for Dalhu to lose interest either.
The bad news was that she had no idea how she was going to sleep with the horrible synthetic fabric irritating her skin. And sleeping naked was not an option—even if she made Dalhu sleep on the couch downstairs.
Sifting through the bags, she found the bedding she’d had him bring from the store. One scratchy sheet went over the naked mattress, then pillowcases over the two pillows, and another sheet under the comforter that, surprise, surprise, was also made from polyester…
Had there been nothing else in that store? Or had Dalhu chosen the worst stuff to torture her with…
Well, payback is a bitch.
Grabbing a pillow and a woven blanket, she hurried down the stairs and dropped them on the couch. The thing was too short for Dalhu’s huge body, and hopefully, it was lumpy as well…
“Sleep tight… hope you get lots of bedbug bites…” she singsonged as she walked over to the kitchen.
The food supplies Dalhu had stolen from the store were on the floor, still in their paper bags, and as she began taking the stuff out and arranging it on the counter, her spirits sank even further. Apparently, Dalhu’s idea of nutrition was mostly canned meat, canned beans, a few cans of vegetables, sliced white bread, and peanut butter.