Page 101 of Beyond the Cottage

Ansel bolted upright. He ruffled his hair, trying to dislodge his dark thoughts.

“I appreciate your offer,” he said. “But I think I need to go lay down alone.”

River nodded. “I’ll walk you to your room.” She stood, offering her hand. Ansel let her hoist him to his feet—she was surprisingly strong—and they negotiated around lounging bodies.

The cool, empty tunnel cleared Ansel’s head, and he breathed deep of the relatively fresh air. At the loot room door, he said, “I truly do appreciate your offer. You’re lovely, I’m just fucked up.”

“You’re as the goddess made us all—perfect.” She kissed his cheek.

“Ansel.”

He turned. Gretta stood in the tunnel, arms wrapped around herself. She wore an expression he’d never seen on her before.

She slowly approached. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Just…don’t.”

River backed away, giving Ansel an encouraging smile, and left the way they’d come.

Ansel’s skin prickled with awareness. He and Gretta were alone again. In a corridor, yes, where anyone might pass by, but a room with a door stood inches away, and his dick was on a hair trigger. He couldn’t trust himself not to do something stupid, like beg her to touch him.

What if she wouldn’t mind a little touching? She let you slake her before. Do you really want to send her off to good old Heron?

Ansel slammed a lid on those thoughts. He hadn’t forgotten the way she’d looked at him after what they’d done on Isobel’s floor. Or how she’d screamed when she found herself in bed with him that very morning.

Ansel opened the door. “I’m going to bed, Gretta. You should do the same.”

Gretta scrambled for any excuse to stop him, some good reason she’d interrupted. None came because she hadn’t thought that far ahead. When he’d left with River, following him had been pure, reckless impulse.

She should make up something stupid and say goodnight. She should send River back to his room and, in the morning, give him a slug on the shoulder, congratulating him on getting lucky.

That was what a friend would do, right?

“Goodnight,” he said over his shoulder.

Gretta grabbed his hand. She couldn’t tell who it surprised more.

There’s time to salvage this, make something up!

Except, the warmth from his hand lit a fire in her entire body. Through his long fingers, she felt the power in his arm, the way he could fling her around like a doll if he wanted.

He’d grown up so damnstrong. And brooding. And a bit prone to instability. But instead of putting her off, his darkening expression sent a primitive thrill up her spine.

Pulling his gaze off their hands, he straightened, shoulders going broader. “What is this, Gretta?”

Too frazzled for lies, she answered honestly. “I have no idea.”

He released her hand and backed into the room. Like a impulsive idiot, Gretta followed. She’d never had a talent for denying herself, and just then, she wanted to kiss that dismal look off his face and see where things went. If they stayed friends, how much longer could she resist?

Or…god. What if fucking wasinevitable? A force of nature that was out of their hands?

Would it be so catastrophic if they only did it once? After all, sex didn’thaveto be complicated. For her, it never had been before. It would diffuse the tension and solve the mystery. Afterward, they’d brush off their hands and finally deal with each other like normal people.

What if to stay friends, theyneededto get this out of the way?

Kicking the door shut, she followed Ansel deeper into the room.

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