"Jean, dear," Monique said, "I've got to run and do a few things before I unpack. Why don't you put your things away and rest up a bit. I think a nap would do you good. I'll be back around six and we can have dinner together."

Jean agreed to this. She was happy to be left alone for a few hours to get settled and take a bath. She felt gritty from the trip and hadn't been in a tub since her hurried exit from the hotel room in Paris.

"I'd love it," Jean replied, "you wake me up when you finish your business. I'll probably be dead to the world."

As soon as Monique was out of the room, Jean finished her unpacking and drew a cool refreshing bath. She couldn't wait to get into bed, as squeaky and uncomfortable as it looked. She scrubbed herself a bright clean, feeling as though she hadn't touched water in weeks. Afterwards, she rubbed herself with lotion from head to foot, rubbing gently over the bruises left from Kevin's childish assault on her. She closed her mind tightly against the memory for the time being and decided to think about it later. Right now she was too tired to do anything but sleep.

She chose a short hip-length nighty, purposely pushing the torn one she had worn the other night with Kevin into a far corner of the drawer where she had put her things.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Jean asked lightly, concluding that Monique had forgotten something.

"Iced tea, Madame," she recognized Shalla's voice through the door.

"But, I-I didn't order any tea," Jean answered, surprised and a bit upset about the unexpected intrusion.

"Madame Monique ordered it for you, Madame. She said it would help you sleep. It's a special mint tea to relax you."