Grievous (Wanted Men #5) - Nancy Haviland Page 0,15

she was feeling the undercurrent that never failed to swirl, strengthening little by little if they were together for any length of time. “Er, were you taking me to a restroom?” She cleared her throat of a husky note that struck him deep in his lower gut. “I hope so. You were right when you said I needed one.”

He nodded and put his hand out, palm up. She glanced at the four exits off the foyer. Hoping to see a sign that read WC?

“Yasmeen?”

“You can just point, you know. I’m also pretty good at following directions if you’d rather go that route.”

He waited.

In seconds, she was reluctantly placing her hand in his. Small victory.

He took her coat and bag from her. “Will you need anything in here?”

“No. Not right now. But it would be great to come back down and find my phone in working order.”

He disregarded the veiled sarcasm and placed her things on the table below the painting. As he started up the stairs with her in tow, he could hear the muted thud of hammers and the sound of a saw somewhere in the castle. The renovations he’d started some time ago were coming along nicely. He would have to put them on hold for the time being. He would rather not have a multitude of workers, the majority of which were men, wandering the halls while his pet was in residence.

“Where are we going?” she muttered, dragging her feet.

“Upstairs.”

“Yes. I got that part.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“You can’t tell me there isn’t a restroom on the main floor. There must be more than a few considering the size of this place.” There was a new wariness in her voice that proved she was a smart girl. “Do I hear people working? Or am I imagining that?”

“People are working. And you will use the restroom up here. It is better stocked than those on the main floor.” He went right when they reached the first landing, and climbed another short set of stairs. If he were to take another right, it would take them up a longer flight to the third level where the ballroom was featured along with a theater room and twelve other suites and sitting rooms. He brought her down the second-floor corridor instead and opened the third door they came to. “Take your time.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

He closed her in and wasn’t surprised when he heard the lock go. Soon, she wouldn’t feel the need for such foolishness.

FOUR

Forcing herself not to think for the moment, Yasmeen used the surprisingly modern facilities in the gold and white bathroom. She looked out the window and stared at a small snow-covered courtyard and what looked like stables. She couldn’t see any animals or footprints, though, so maybe it wasn’t in use. The freaking moat surrounding them was absurd and romantic all at the same time.

Romania. He’d brought her to Romania.

Her shoes made quiet clicks as she crossed the floor to wash up. She fixed her face as best she could without supplies, and was happy to see a small bottle of mouthwash and disposable toothbrushes in a basket filled with a wide variety of toiletries—definitely well stocked. She used both before fluffing her hair. Then she paused and looked at herself in the mirror. She licked her lips and squinted.

“Why do you look like this, you idiot?” she whispered.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. Her heart was beating faster and faster, and her nerves were buzzing almost loud enough to hear.

She was no longer afraid.

She felt fucking excited.

Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. She did have some residual fear and anger twisting around inside her that continued to come and go because she had a brain in her head. But something was overpowering it. The incomprehensible thing she felt for the man standing on the other side of the door.

“Oh, you stupid woman. Hold onto the fear. Find the phone. Get the hell out of here. Simple.” Something stretched awake inside her, looking for him. “He has no intention of bringing you to the airport!” she mouthed a little frantically.

Excitement. No fear. She could have sworn her body just sighed with relief.

She turned away, leaned her ass on the counter, and concentrated on what was happening to her. She was hot. She was bothered. A softness that felt so good was wrapping around her heart. Every time she looked and found Lucian watching her, she got hotter. When she concentrated on the new darkness in those amber depths,

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