She leaned forward and pressed an unchaste kiss to his lips, with just enough promise to keep him from following after her, then turned on her heel and swept from the room. The moment she was out of sight, she swiped at the repulsive taste of him with the back of her hand.
* * *
The scraping of old wood against stone echoed through the narrow stairwell. Gooseflesh skittered along Gabe’s skin. He took it as a dark omen. Perhaps these ruins were haunted.
“Step inside,” Lady Kerr’s smooth and deliberately seductive voice said.
Gabe did as she asked and stepped into the dark dankness of the dungeon. The only light came from the doorway in which her ladyship stood. The floor was dirty stone that was likely covered in rodent refuse. The walls were of the same stone, but they were cold with dripping moisture and sported scars from the nails of former inhabitants and the chains and manacles that graced its walls.
This was a room for torture. It veritably reeked of fear and pain… A shiver skittered up Gabe’s spine, as one clear fact rang out like a knoll: death had happened here. Why the devil would Lady Kerr bring him to such a place?
The lady was silent, as though waiting for him to comment on the trappings. “Fascinating,” he lied as he turned his gaze up toward the low ceiling. “And this was all built in Roman times? When did your husband’s family rebuild the main—?”
Gabe stilled, sudden awareness, trepidation, and self-derision flowing through him all at once, as theclickof a pistol cocking echoed through the room.
He spun around, alarm in his chest.
Bang!
