Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,48
call you later.”
“Good luck,” she says before hanging up.
To my disgust, Maria escorts me again to the most horrible room in this house—the trophy room. I’m enraged simply at the idea that he wants to meet me there again.
She knocks out of politeness and, at the sound of his approval, opens the door, inviting me in.
As I walk in, I see him leaning against the antique wooden desk, his head slightly down as he looks absently at the floor. At least he had the decency to change his attire to a casual one.
“Where’s the bear?” I ask, moving closer to him.
His eyes travel up to my face, and, to my surprise, his expression is unreadable. “Sebastian missed it,” he replies.
“And you?”
“I didn’t shoot.” I smile immediately, but not him. His tone and face are unusually grave. He paces slowly in my direction and then stops right in front of me, glaring at me for some unknown reason. “And I hated not being able to, Petra.”
Oh, he’s still annoyed because of the hunt? I do my best not to roll my eyes at his comment. “Sorry,” I brush off. But in my mind, I’m doing a happy dance at the idea that I saved a poor bear.
“Look me in the eye.” Not that I want to, but I do so to avoid a useless argument between us. “Now tell me, how did you find this room?”
Uh, oh. “I found it by myself.”
“I’m gonna repeat the question.”
Jeez, my heart starts thundering, and my gaze drops to the floor. “Look at me,” he demands.
I meet his frigid glare again, but it’s becoming quite uncomfortable to do so. “How did you find this room? Last chance to tell me the truth,” he warns.
My breathing becomes heavy, and I’m sure I’m blushing a sharp shade of red as I keep staring into his blue eyes. Nevertheless, I swallow my anxiety and say, “I told you, I found it by myself.”
But he knows I’m lying. Studies have shown that liars’ pupils often dilate when they’re telling a lie, and mine must have betrayed me a long time ago.
Blowing out a breath, he moves his hands behind his back and his gaze drops to the floor for a moment. Then, as they raise up again to meet mine, he says, “Miss Van Gatt…” Wow. He hasn’t addressed me so formally in such a long time that it feels weird and awkward hearing my surname out of the blue. “You’ve really crossed the line this time.” Oh gosh! I swallow dryly at his statement. What does that even mean? His voice is calculated, cold, yet laced with so much disappointment that I feel tempted for a moment to apologize and tell him the truth. Then I can’t help but wonder if he’s gonna cancel our engagement just because of a little lie. No, he wouldn’t do that! “Very well…” he mumbles as he ponders something. “Take off your clothes.”
My heart freezes at his request. “What? Here?”
“Yes, here.”
His answer has my blood boiling, and I snap, “Or else what?”
“Or else Maria is fired.”
“No!” I implore. “You can’t do that.”
“Then do as you are told.”
Such a fucking asshole, I think to myself. But I will never let Maria get fired. That woman and her family have dedicated their whole lives to serving the Van Dierens, and I know it’d break her heart if she had to leave because of me. “Okay, I… I’ll take them off.”
With shaky hands, I first reach down to my All Stars and remove them. Then I unbutton and unzip my jeans, quite self-conscious at the embarrassment I feel. My fiancé keeps watching without an ounce of enjoyment. And for some odd reason, I was expecting some sort of appreciation for the show I’m giving him. I don’t know, maybe a smile? But no—his expression remains just as severe. The same as he had when he found Emma and me behind bars. Taking a deep breath in and out, I push my jeans down, until I lift one leg and then the other to remove them completely, and drop them on the floor. After that, I reach for my sweater and pull it off. And here I am standing in my knickers in his cold, disgusting trophy room and the thought of it makes me hate him even more. But instead of cursing him, I ask, “And now?”
Without a once of joy, he says, “Your panties too.”