Twenty-Four
Bay
Slash’s head lay in my lap as I rubbed behind his ears while reading the copy of Frankenstein I’d taken from the library that Ellen had shown me after I mentioned wanting something to read.
I’d not expected a library. It was a cozy room with two of the walls covered with books from floor to ceiling.
While the corner of the other two had a stone fireplace that went all the way to the ceiling.
In the center of the room hung a large, drum-shaped copper light fixture.
Two identical leather sofas faced each other on what I hoped was a fake cowhide rug covering the floor beneath them.
I’d not wanted to try out the ladder to look at the higher shelves, but found this one at eye level.
I’d never read it and figured it was likely to distract me while I made it through this day.
Only a few times had I wondered who might have grown concerned with my absence.
For the most part, the book had kept my attention.
Just as I went to flip the page, Slash’s ears perked up, and then he lifted his head. I didn’t hear anything, but then I wasn’t a canine. I let out a groan as I glanced at the empty doorway.
Did this mean Hale was back? I much preferred it when he was gone.
Ellen had been so hospitable, bringing me tea and lunch.
She’d asked more than once if she could get me anything, and she’d not only washed my work uniform, but she had mended the blazer where it had ripped along the seams under my right arm and replaced all the buttons on my blouse.
Both were hanging with my skirt, pressed and in my temporary room upstairs.
It was almost as if I were on some sort of vacation.
Slash was excellent company, and I’d made it just fine today. However, if Hale was back, that would change things.
The short stub of Slash’s tail began to wag as he moved off the elegantly distressed leather sofa, where we had spent the last few hours, and went toward the door.
Pausing, he glanced back at me once, as if to see if I was following him.
When he saw that I was still seated, he didn’t make a move for a moment, and then he heard something else that snapped his attention back to the door.
A whistle rang down the hallway, and he bolted out of the room and toward the sound. Yep, Hale was back. That whistle could not have come from Ellen. It was too…too masculine. At least Slash had gone to him, and he’d not come in here.
Deciding to take my book to finish in my room, I stood and started toward the door. Glancing back once, I thought about maybe taking one more with me, but it was unlikely I’d be here long enough to finish the one I had. Much less another one.
The wide hallway and its vaulted ceilings greeted me.
I looked up at the rustic, exposed beams against the white walls.
Every six feet or so hung another chandelier, made of some impressive antlers.
Again, I hoped those weren’t real. There weren’t many portraits on the walls.
Not one I’d come across depicted these children he had claimed to have.
I wondered about that too. It was hard not to be curious.
The man had walked into my life and flipped it upside down. And not in a good way.
The faint sound of voices reminded me I had been heading for the fourth floor to hide, and I hurried in the opposite direction.
I now knew that there were two sets of staircases that led to all four floors.
The ones that Ellen had taken me up last night—small, hidden, and out of the way—and the ones that I’d found today when I went looking for a bathroom while reading.
Those were grand and as impressive as the rest of the house.
Luckily, the hidden ones were an easy escape from having to run into Hale.
Why didn’t he work longer hours?
Just as I reached the door to the back staircase, I heard a deep voice clearing his throat. Crap! Where had he come from?
“I’m just borrowing a book and going back to the attic,” I said, turning around to glare at him.
Which might have been more successful if he wasn’t once again shirtless and this time in a pair of athletic shorts and tennis shoes.
“Do you not own many shirts?” I asked, annoyed that I wanted to ogle him.
He smirked. “It’s hot out, and I’m taking Slash out for a run.”
Oh. Well, fine.
I focused on the railing behind him and waited for him to say whatever it was he had come to say. Perhaps he was taking me home soon.
“Dinner will be ready at seven,” he said. “Ellen will serve it in the dining room.”
I swung my eyes back up to meet his, taking utmost care not to linger on any of the bulging muscles covered in artwork. “And this affects me how?” I asked.
“Do you want to eat?”
Yes. I enjoyed Ellen’s cooking.
“Won’t she be bringing it up to the attic, or can I come get it and take it up myself tonight?”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “If you want to eat, then you will do so in the dining room.”
Oh. With him? Why?
“Let’s go, Slash,” he said before waiting on a response from me.
I should have left then, walked up the stairs, but it took me a moment to remember that. Instead, I watched my dark, sexy abductor walk away with his equally beautiful dog.
He wanted me to eat with him. Fine. I could do that. Staying in the attic room made me feel caged in anyway.