Read Online Sold into Slavery by Claire Thompson - Free Book Online Page B

walls were tiled in white marble shot through with strands of silver, gold and green. There was a huge sunken tub that took up one side of the room. It was filled with water, a fragrant steam rising from the surface. Leah’s skin, covered in dirt, dried sweat and dog hair, itched with longing.
    She was directed to a toilet set discreetly behind a screen. She sat, embarrassed to go in front of these thugs, but aware she’d better seize the opportunity. When she was done, they led her back into the main bathroom.
    “Kneel.” The taller man pointed to a thick bath rug beside the tub and Leah sank gratefully to her feet on the soft pile, staring longingly at the bath. To her relieved delight, the man unlocked and unbuckled the leather harness, removing it from her head.
    Leah touched her jaw, which was wet with sweat and aching with disuse. She opened her mouth carefully, reveling in the freedom to do so after so many hours.
    “Drink.” The guard handed her a glass of water. Leah took the glass and gratefully drained it.
    “Get into the tub, filthy girl. Alex will take care of you.” The shorter guard was pointing to the bathtub. If she was filthy, he and his thug partner were certainly to blame, but Leah held her tongue. Gingerly she climbed into the water. It was hot, but not too hot, and moved like silky heaven over her skin as she lowered herself down.
    The taller man went to a counter and lifted a small brass bell. Its tinkle echoed against the marble walls and within a few seconds a tall solid-looking man with long, lank brown hair pulled back into a ponytail entered the room. Leah presumed this was the Alex the guard had referred to. He was wearing a dark blue robe that resembled a kimono, his feet bare. He wore what looked to Leah like a slave collar made of silver metal around his neck, a large O ring at its center. There were matching cuffs around his wrists and ankles.
    The guard who had rung the bell pointed toward Leah. “She’s to have a full grooming. She is to be presented to the harem steward for inspection.”
    Harem steward! Did harems actually still exist? Weren’t they the province of the Middle East, not the Far East? But then, Khalil was almost certainly an Arab, or at least of Arabian descent. Thailand might be his home base, but she could only guess how far this sex slave trafficking web she’d fallen into reached.
    These thoughts flitted through Leah’s rational mind at lightning speed, but were quickly edged out by raw emotion, the top one being fear.
    Alex nodded calmly and knelt gracefully beside the tub, his movements somehow feminine. Lifting a tube from the side of the tub, he squeezed a dollop of what looked like shampoo into his hand. “I will wash your hair,” he informed her. His voice, too, was feminine, both in tone and quality. His large brown eyes reminded Leah of a deer and his beard, if he even shaved at all, was very light.
    Leah would much rather have washed her own hair but she didn’t protest, the memory of the beatings at the hands of the men now standing guard far too fresh in her mind. Instead, she dunked her head back into the fragrant water, closing her eyes with pleasure as it sluiced over her.
    When she lifted her head, Alex leaned over her and rubbed the shampoo into her scalp. The shorter guard brought over a large pitcher and stood waiting. Alex massaged her scalp gently as he shampooed the tangled mess of her hair.
    Looking up, he nodded toward the guard holding the pitcher, who poured fresh warm water over Leah’s head. They repeated the process. Alex then selected a washcloth from a pile that rested on the wide rim of the huge tub. Using a bar of sweetly scented soap, he washed every inch of Leah’s body. Unlike the stoic, masklike faces of the guards, Alex smiled in a rather absent way as he cleaned her body. Leah had the odd feeling of being bathed by a kindly but disinterested grandmother. 
    She regarded the man surreptitiously as he worked, noting