Vanilla-scented steam wafted behind her. From what she’d seen of the place so far, it was all done in gray slate tiles and gray walls with brushed-steel accents and black marble. Ultramacho. She liked it. No lace or frills for this chick. But could a girl get a maid to stop by the loft once in a while? A large red department store box sat on the high king-size bed. Tugging her towel tightly about her chest, she checked the bedroom doors. Closed. The curtains bunched to either side of the window did not hide any lurking forms. “You never used to be so paranoid,” she said. With the gift of Joan’s sword had also come many a curse. And just plain suspicion. The closet door was still open from when she’d entered and had done a cursory search of the room. The balcony doors were also latched. With a resolute sigh Annja slid onto the bed and ran a hand over the glossy box. “If there’s silk or some kind of lacy stuff in here I’m going to stuff it down his throat,” she said, knowing it was quite possible Garin had the room bugged.
