“You’re ridiculous.” She shook her head, but that gorgeous color rose on her skin again.
“Are you okay?” He took her wine glass from her. “Did you have too much of this tonight? You looked flushed.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Just worried that now I’ll have to teach you to dance so that when that pompous ass spreads the story of how we met, people will believe it.”
“Oh, you don’t think I can dance, do you?” Ronin snorted. “Iwillprove you wrong.”
“Waiting with bated breath, Matakos.”
The sarcastic look she gave him was nearly as tempting as her flush. He was starting to look forward to those looks.
“Come on.” He grinned at her. “Let’s go make mischief,love.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ronin led Mireille out of the greenhouse, wrapping an arm around her to keep her warm as they crossed the patio into the main house.
It was dark and quiet inside, splinters of moonlight slicing across the checkered floor.
They hurried past the empty parlors, then took the staircase to the second floor landing before turning down the hallway toward the west wing.
A sense of foreboding washed over Mireille, and her wolf stirred—hackles raised, teeth bared. As if there was an enemy hidden around every corner and the beast was preparing for a fight.
Mireille rubbed at her chest, trying to calm her wolf as she followed Ronin down the corridor.
Otto’s wing was even more ornate than the rest of the house. Colorful carpets with intricately-woven patterns lined the floors, likely purchased from artisans in southern Nephes. The walls displayed tastefully curated paintings of different continental landmarks. Mireille recognized most, but a few were completely foreign.
She paused before a beautiful landscape rendered in soft pastels. An opalescent palace stood above a field of white flowers. Due to the impressionistic style, Mireille couldn’t tell what type of flowers they were. Her wolf settled, a peaceful calm sweeping away her earlier foreboding.
“Keep up,” Ronin whisper-shouted from down the hall, his face half shrouded in shadow.
They crept up another staircase and came upon a circular landing with a single door. “We’re in the west turret,” Ronin murmured. “This must be Otto’s office. I saw him watching from the window when we arrived this afternoon.” He tried the handle. It didn’t budge. “Guess that would’ve been too easy.”
Mireille surveyed the small landing, then glanced out the window to the estate entrance. Down between the mountains, the city of Kheimos flowed like a spill of liquid glitter.
She unlatched the window and shoved it open, poking her head outside. This high up, the wind howled violently, whipping through her copper hair.
She brushed the strands away, then spied an open window to her right. Given the height of the turret and the smoothness of the wall, she didn’t question why. It was damn-near inaccessible.
For most individuals.
She pulled back inside, then bent down to remove her heels.
“What are you doing?” Ronin grabbed her arm, forcing her upright. “You’re not seriously about to climb out of the fucking window, are you? Dressed likethat?”
She twisted out his grip. “You worried about me putting on a show for the birds?”
Ronin poked his head outside. “No, I’m worried about you falling to True Death.”
Mireille shrugged. “I’m not.”
“There’s barely anything to cling to.”
“There are pockmarks in the stone.” She elongated her fingernails. “Just large enough for me to sink my claws in.”
“Let me do it,” he demanded.
Mireille straightened, hands on her hips. “You won’t even fit through the window. Not to mention, you’re twice as heavy as me.” She dragged a pointed gaze down his massive form. “Gravity is not your friend.” She shucked off her heels, then shoved them toward Ronin. “Here. Hold these for me.”
