Chapter Eight

Kara paced all over her bedroom, hands gripping her hair in frustration.

How… just freaking how had she messed up so badly?? She could hardly believe it! François’s brother?!?

“What the hell are you going to do, Kara? Oh, my freaking…!” Frustration bit away at her and she felt just about completely eaten away by it. She didn’t know what the hell to do. Out of all the men in France, the man who gave her a bed and a job had to be the brother of the man she had stolen from? The man she’d robbed?

God, it was so messed up. Kara sank onto her bed in suppressed panic, rocking herself back and forth.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Calm the hell down, girl.”

Crap, now he’d found her, he’ll either want to end her or have his money back.

She looked at the ton of shopping bags all over the room. She’d already began spending that money.

Restlessly, she walked over to a large black bag and pulled out an entire set of new painting instruments. A small smile of excitement curved her mouth, despite herself. It had been so long since she painted, years actually. She couldn’t wait to feel the wood of the paint brush on her fingers and smell the sweet chemical scent of the paint as she poured her imagination out onto paper.

She had ordered a canvas stand and the whole nine yards, they would deliver it all tomorrow.

Along with her brand new plasma screen TV! She was super excited about that one, she’d never had such a fancy TV before. Goodness, she really splashed.

Kara bit her lip when she remembered the quick inheritance tale she’d spun for Celeste when she’d looked curious about all Kara’s money. Karen Hilton was now an illegitimate child who'd suffered through life until she recently discovered that she had a dead father who'd left her a few thousands.

A sharp twist of guilt made Kara inwardly cringe at all the lies she was spewing. These people were helping her. They were the best thing that had ever happened to her, really, yet all she did was lie to them.

Kara sighed, tossing the packs of paint brushes and pencils back into the bag. It would soon be over, however. The man, who Celeste had said was called…Lucas…he would arrive tomorrow and blow her cover. Then she would get kicked out of the place she loved so much and worse…Celeste and François would probably hate her.

The thought was enough to bring tears to her eyes and Kara blinked to hold them back.

Oh, she should have just left that stupid trunk alone! Now, look at the mess she’d made.

Another sigh had her sinking onto the bed, searching for the bag with her brand new pairs of pajamas. She couldn’t believe she had more than one pair! Four different pajama outfits. All for her to wear.

Celeste had helped her pick out all the best things and it really had been fun. Until she saw him… Lucas.

The name made her swallow to moisten her throat and she felt herself grow hot for no reason at all. Must be a fever she was catching. The whole rob-and-run business was not an easy one!

Now she felt like a convict.

Kara undressed, tugging her jeans over her hips, noting a strange moment when the jeans got sort of…stuck coming off. They never got stuck, what in the world was happening?

Shaking her head at it, Kara put on the soft material shorts and matching sleep shirt. The shorts were tiny and she danced gleefully around in them before she remembered what the next day was bringing. Immediately sobered up, she stacked all the bags in one corner and got ready for bed.

Suddenly, a memory came to her. When she was little…how the sweetest woman in the world, her very first teacher, had taught her to pray. She did so a lot as a child. Every night before sleeping, with screaming or crying in the background, she’d prayed for miracles. But when they didn’t come, just as it began, her praying stopped.

Kara bit her lip for a second, before nudging aside a shopping bag and kneeling by her bed.

Her hands came together and her lips parted. Her eyelids fell closed. And she prayed.

About three minutes later, she got up and climbed into bed, feeling a sense of peace within her.

With a sigh, she reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. Tomorrow was going to be alright.

**********

Kara shot up in bed, eyes wide and breath labored. She lifted her wrists, frantically checking for handcuffs. Looking at her bare wrists, she sighed and fell backwards onto the bed with a groan.

It had been a dream! So, Lucas hadn’t really hunted her down, handcuffed her and made her…pay for what she did.

Her cheeks heated as she recalled the full nature of her dream. He’d had handcuffs… and he’d told her that she’d been a very bad girl. Then he’d cuffed her…

“Uhhggghhnnnn!!!” Kara groaned in frustration. What the hell was wrong with her? What kind of dream was that? And of that devilish tyrant too!

She huffed and swiped at her pillow as she climbed out of bed, disgusted with herself and only further appalled to find something different in her body. A certain…moisture had accumulated in her nether region and Kara clutched her thighs together, greatly confused at the sharp…pleasurable sensations.

Was this what the other girls in the slum had called being…wet?

A shriek of shock escaped and she dashed to the bathroom, leaping into a hot shower and immediately scrubbing her body. She was never going to allow herself to become like the girls from the slum. Never.

A feeling of dread swept over her as she touch herself to wash and accidentally shot a sweet sensation rocking through her entire body, making her knees go weak. What in the hell?

Highly annoyed at herself, Kara cleaned up and went back into her room.

This day wasn’t starting off right. And darn, the worst was still to come.

Unless…

Kara sat up, paying greater attention to her own thoughts as an idea began to form.

That’s it!

She’d just have to play sick! She hated to lie again, but Celeste still thought she was ill from yesterday anyway. She’d say it was monthly cramps and she couldn’t leave her bed. Then tomorrow, when that… Lucas was a safe distance away, she’d do extra chores to make up for it.

Perhaps, that beautiful lady, Isabelle, would come in and say hello, she wouldn’t mind, but surely Celeste would not allow the men to go in and see her house help, wrecked with monthly cramps. It would be too much for the poor house help, wouldn’t it?

Kara clapped her hands in satisfaction and lied back on the bed with a relieved smile, clutching her bathrobe about her.

If Lucas doesn’t see her, nobody gets hurt…right?