Ruin (Rhodes #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,50

Like right after the royal family huge.

Though he could be only a lord.

“Wait...” The stranger sniffs the air like some sort of a hunting dog. “The room smells strange. Since when do you use citrus perfume?”

I swallow, heat rising to my cheeks. I hide behind the door and cover my mouth with both hands. Please no.

“None of your business.” Aaron shoves his hands in his pocket. “Out.”

A long tortured sigh leaves my system when the room quiets. Did they leave? I peek through the little opening of the door when a white-clothed broad chest blocks my vision. I look up to be captured by Aaron’s softening black wells. The sight is so rare that I stare at them in complete awe.

He reaches for my head. His warm palm caresses the top of my hair, causing an ache similar to excitement to form at the bottom of my stomach.

I open my mouth to blurt something, but his index finger presses on my lips. Words die at my throat. The ache in my stomach intensifies to match the thundering of my heart.

He smiles, a genuine heart-stopping smile that stretches to his eyes. It erupts the intense sensation in my stomach into wild frenzied butterflies.

“You did well, kitten,” he says in a low voice before leaving.

When the lock clicks in place, my wobbly knees give up the burden of holding me, and I fall to the tiled floor.

What the hell just happened?

. . . . .

In the following days, there has been no trace of Aaron. Which adds a further confusion to what on earth happened that afternoon.

For five days, only Kane has been showing up with my meals. He doesn’t talk too much, but he listens to me blabbering without any sign of discomfort.

So different from His Lordship.

Refusing to succumb to any thoughts about Aaron, I spend my time sketching. I found a little notebook in the drawer and a collection of charcoal crayons. Something tells me it’s not a coincidence.

At first, I refused to draw anything, but since I had nothing to do, it’s been better to put my time to use.

I take a look at the figures I put on the paper: phantoms, mutilated Greek mythology Gods, and an outline of a man. Ugh. What’s wrong with me? I can’t even draw that beautiful tree visible from my room’s window. In a split second I find myself wanting to put features on the man’s outline.

When on earth do I draw people?

With a groan, I slam the sketchbook shut and wander to the window. This derangement of my art is making me antsy and pushing me to an unknown edge. Why can’t I even control my muse?

Might as well have a bath or something to drive this uneasiness away.

The clothes Kane provided me end in a heap on the carpet as I dive into them. I never managed to find anything in a neat pile before and I won’t start now.

After choosing a dress, I try to shove the chaotic pile back in. I kick them in the cupboard and something snaps.

Oh, no. Did I break something?

After pulling the clothes aside, I study the wooden drawer at the bottom of the cupboard. It’s not that it broke, but another drawer emerged. A secret passageway?

My insides light up as I bury my fingers inside the small entrance. I snooped in this room as much as I could, but nothing stood out. Perhaps I’m having better luck this time.

Something solid meets my hand, and I pull it out.

A dusty, brown-leathered book.

I blow on the cover. A cloud of dust constricts my breathing, and I cough.

A journal? Curiosity compels me to open the first page. The blank paper is yellowish, but it isn’t dusty like on the outside. At the bottom, there’s a neat written name: Eva.

Could this be one of Aaron’s relatives? Although guilt overwhelms me at reading someone’s journal, curiosity is stronger.

I put my hands together. “I’m sorry, Ms Eva. I need to read this to know what type of a monster I’m stuck with.”

Determination flowing inside me, I turn the second page. The date on the top is about when I was two years old.

The suffocation I endure in this place is draining me. I need to ease this load off my chest even if it’s to