I eased the panel open enough to poke my head through, finding myself behind yet another tall-back chair, my palms resting on a smooth wooden floor. Hearing nothing, I slipped fully through and eased around the chair to stand.
The room was unmistakably masculine, rich but without showy luxury.
Heavy wooden beams framed the ceiling, their grain dark and glossy. Paintings of fields and trees and even the castle had been spaced on the walls, and the wall on the left hosted a bookshelf filled with leather-wrapped tomes.
A large bed dominated the space, a monstrous, carved wooden thing draped in linens the color of storm clouds. It wasn’t the bed of a man who wasted time on frills, but its surface looked invitingly soft. I eased over to the side of it and reached out, grazing the fabric, wondering if it would still hold the warmth of whoever last slept here.
A soft sound stirred the air behind me. The hairs on my nape lifted before my mind caught up, the instinct that warned prey it was no longer alone.
I pivoted, my breath caught in my throat.
Trew stood framed in a doorway, a shadow carved from the night itself.
He wore only a towel slung low around his hips. Bare chest. Bare legs. Hair damp and curling around his chiseled jaw and cheekbones.
All his gorgeous golden skin and muscles were fully on display.
His eyes gleamed with that light I’d only recently begun to understand. A slow smile curved his lips.
“Pretty women come to my bedroom for one thing only,” he drawled, padding toward me on bare feet.
The quiet menace in his gaze wrapped around me like a noose.
He stopped so close to me I caught the scent of his warm skin. He’d bathed. Recently. And now he wore…almost nothing.
Reaching up, his knuckles grazed my cheek. “Take off your clothing, Minx, and lie on the bed. I’ll be happy to show you everything I have to offer.”
36
ISI
“Screw you,” I snarled.
His slick smile deepened. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”
“I’m not taking off my clothing. I’m not lying on your bed.”
He sighed. “Pity.”
Spinning me, he backed me against the wall, making a painting of a meadow shudder by my left shoulder. He glided a strand of hair off my face before tilting my chin, making me meet his gaze. “Why have you come to my private suite?”
I met his gaze with my own steel. “I got lost.”
“Inside my secret passageway that connects my study to my bedroom.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I happened to…stumble upon it.”
“Don’t lie to me, Minx.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But it suits you so well. Do you know much about the minx as a species?”
I couldn’t believe we were having an almostnormal conversation. Inside his bedroom. With him pressing me against the wall, reminding me of what we’d done this afternoon when I met my last wall due to this man.
And him barely wearing a damp towel.
