“Of course,” Isla says dryly.“Because nothing says welcome home like Victorian death traps.Did you plan this?”
Callum leans back against the door, arms folding.“Absolutely.I wanted to spend my day trapped in a storage room, with a woman who is hot one second and cold as an iceberg the next.”
“There’s a reason for that,” she returns.“When you’re pulled in all directions, you usually go a little crazy.”
A chuckle escapes from him.“If it helps, this isn’t how I usually host guests.”
Isla snorts.The sound surprises her, laughter arriving uninvited, like a stranger who ignored the “no visitors” sign.
“I should put that in the guestbook,” she says.“Five stars.Excellent acoustics.Kidnapping potential slightly higher than expected.”
His mouth twitches, and for a moment, the tension loosens, just enough for her lungs to expand fully.
The silence returns, but it’s less suffocating now, more… charged.
Callum’s gaze flicks to her mouth.Back to her eyes.
Isla clears her throat.“We should probably ration something.”
“Ration?”Callum repeats.
She gestures vaguely.“Time.Oxygen.Sanity.”
A short laugh shakes his chest.“We’re not buried alive.”
“Yet,” Isla says.“Give the castle time.”
He pushes off the door and steps farther into the room, as if movement will keep him from doing something reckless again.
“We’re fine,” he says.“Someone will notice eventually.”
“Who?”Isla asks pointedly.
He opens his mouth, then closes it.
She lifts an eyebrow.“Exactly.”
“Well,” Callum says, buying time, “you could scream.”
Isla considers.“I’m a professional musician.If I scream, it’s usually on purpose, and people pay for tickets.”
“That’s… unsettlingly fair.”
She gestures toward the shelves.“Besides, if I’m going to lose my mind, I’d like to do it productively.”
“By digging through my mentor’s secret hoard of unresolved emotional trauma?”
“Exactly.”
Callum laughs again, a real laugh this time, and it fills the small space and echoes off stone.Isla freezes, staring at him.
The laugh surprises her more than the kiss did.
It’s easy.Unforced.Like something he doesn’t allow himself very often.
“What?”he asks, catching her look.
“Nothing,” Isla says quickly.“I just… didn’t expect to enjoy hearing your laughter.It’s not something we’ve experienced in our short time together.”
