Page 31 of From the Darkness

Her neck arched, giving him better access. He was weaving a sensual web around her again, the way he’d done so easily in her bedroom. He was a magician who had learned just the right tricks to bring her under his spell.

She struggled to fight the fog wafting through her brain. She told herself that she had to make herself think—make him keep communicating in words instead of touches. But now that everything had changed, she had lost the will to protest. Instead, she opened her mouth so he could stroke the sensitive tissue of her inner lips. Then, with a small sound, she went from passive to aggressive—trapping his finger between her teeth, nibbling on him, playing with the skin.

Behind her, he caught his breath, and she felt as though the rules of the encounter had changed.

“Let me turn around,” she pleaded, the request coming out high and breathy.

“I’ve decided it’s better like this.”

She’d been drifting on a cloud of sensuality. Now the impact of his words was almost a physical blow.

“You decided! Do you make all the decisions?”

“I have to.”

Before she could demand an explanation, a noise in the hall made them both go rigid.

Bree’s heart leaped into her throat. “Somebody’s here,” she gasped out.

He cursed under his breath and moved away from her, leaving her standing alone in the closet.

In the next moment, the door flew open, and she found herself facing Nola Sterling.

“I thought I heard music in here! First, I find you scrabbling around behind a curtain in the hall. Now you’re in the master suite! What in the hell are you doing in Mr. London’s bedroom?” Nola demanded, standing in the doorway, her hands balled into fists and planted on her hips. Her voice was controlled, but her narrow face reflected a bad case of nerves.

“Is this Mr. London’s bedroom?” Bree asked, using her sweet little southern belle voice.

“You know damn well it is! That’s why you came here. Don’t hide in the damn closet!”

Nola backed up to give Bree room to follow. She took a step forward but remained a few inches inside the closet doorway, struggling to look innocent, even as her mind scrambled for some other explanation. “I was exploring the house. I was in a lot of rooms. You just happened to find me here,” she heard herself saying, lying through her teeth again. Lord, she was getting good at lying, she thought, hating the way she was bending her moral code. “This place is so stunning. I wanted to look around. I didn’t know what room it was. And since you told me Mr. London has been violent, I certainly wouldn’t have come in here, if I’d known it was his room.”

Nola cocked her head, staring at her. “You don’t have permission to explore the house. You’re supposed to be with the little girl. And this room is always locked. How did you get in?”

Bree dredged up a befuddled look. “It wasn’t locked,” she said, her voice still all innocence.

Nola’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying you just walked in?”

“Yes.”

“And did you turn on the music?”

“No. I’m not very mechanical. I don’t fool with other people’s disc players.”

“If you didn’t turn it on, who did?”

Bree raised her chin slightly. “Maybe that sexy ghost you told me about.”

Nola blanched, and Bree knew she’d scored a point, although she couldn’t follow the logic of it.

But the woman recovered quickly. “I don’t think so,” she said firmly. “Let’s get back to you. You claim that before you came in here, you were in other rooms. Describe them.”

“Which . . which ones?” Bree managed. “There are so many.”

“Start with the one next door—on the right. If you want to keep your job.”

Chapter Eight

Bree had no idea what the room on the right looked like. She was desperately floundering around for something to say when a voice whispered in her ear. Troy’s voice, coming from behind her, low and husky, sending a shiver over her skin.

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