Page 36 of Gilded Locks
Stone sipped his vodka, watching as Mary followed the labyrinth of corridors from one wing to the other, like a lost mouse desperately trying to escape a lab.
When she reached the door of the grotto, heavy and sealed, she tested the lock. It opened with a tug, and her eyes widened as she stepped inside. Both men moved closer to watch the screen as Ash cued up the internal cameras.
Stone dropped back in his chair, elbows braced on the armrests, eyes fixed on the wall of monitors. The image flickered—grainy in the low light—but it didn’t matter. He could see her.
She stepped into the grotto wrapped in a black sheet, the fabric draped over one shoulder like some pagan goddess caught between modesty and sin. Steam curled around her as she moved deeper inside, slow and uncertain, every shift of her body traced in shadow and silk.
The cavern looked colder through the cameras than it was in truth—stone walls, carved arches, the faint shimmer of condensation where heat met centuries-old rock—but he knew better. The air in there was thick, heavy with mineral vapor and cedar smoke. He’d designed it that way. A place meant to draw out secrets. To put people at ease and break down the last of their inhibiting walls.
She hesitated before the first pool, the dark water gleaming like liquid glass. Then she walked on, bare feet against warm stone, curls coiling tighter from the inescapable humidity.
She paused by the statues, fingertips ghosting over marble forms older than the country she came from. Every motion was careful, reverent, but he saw the tremor in her hand. The way she was fighting not to look over her shoulder.
His mouth curved. “She’s learning.”
“She knows she’s never alone.”
The cameras followed her through each chamber—the salt room, the baths, the long corridor where steam thickened to fog. She was silent, lost in the hum of dripping water and the occasional sigh that escaped her lips when the heat kissed her skin.
And then she reached the final door. The sauna.
Framed in the glow spilling through the ironwork, the black sheet clinging damply to her thighs, she looked like temptation carved out of night—something he could almost touch if he stepped closer to the screen.
Stone leaned forward, forearms on his knees, eyes narrowing as she pushed the door open and disappeared inside. The monitor filled with gold light and mist. It was the only place their camera lenses couldn’t manage.
He exhaled slowly, the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth as he stood, throwing back the last of his vodka and setting the crystal glass down with a definitive click. “I’m taking a walk. Watch the cameras.”
“For what?” Ash yelled, but Stone didn’t bother answering as he left the room.
Chapter 9
Heat
Marigold eased into the lodge’s sauna with a sigh that bordered on ecstasy. It was getting dark again, and she hadn’t been able to find the men, so she decided to use her unchaperoned time for a little more pampering and self-care.
They didn’t seem to care what she was up to anyway. She couldn’t find a single trace of them, and, despite her photogenic taunting, she was starting to get worried something was wrong.
What if they changed their mind and decided to report her? Maybe they were with the police right now. Her nerves jangled at the thought.
She tried to guess if Ash could touch her like that and then betray her so easily. Maybe he already had. Perhaps that was why he’d never returned.
But Stone had come, and he’d been respectful and patient. Then Hunter. He wasn’t someone who radiated manners, but he also didn’t lay a hand on her.
She was being ridiculous and working herself up for nothing. She should be reveling in her privacy and grateful they left her alone. Though she was never truly alone. Her gaze drifted to the wall where another bear watched her.
Were they watching her now? Questioning her motives as much as she questioned theirs? Heat enveloped her like an embrace, drawing out the last of her body’s tension. Muscles loosened like liquid heat as steam rose from heated stones, filling the cedar-lined chamber with humidity that made her skin glow like polished ivory. She loosened the sheet twisted around her neck and stretched her neck.
The door opened with a soft hiss of escaping steam, and she opened her eyes, her pulse quickening at the sight of Stone wrapped in nothing but a towel.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, as he settled on the bench across from her with fluid grace.
His broad chest and wide shoulders radiated controlled danger. Ropes of sinew twisted up his arms and sides. He was a chiseled work of art with a body that could literally kill. She couldn’t help but stare at the lean muscle of his torso, the way condensation already beaded on his golden skin like scattered diamonds.
His green eyes tracked a drop of sweat that rolled slowly down her throat. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Do you want me to go?”
A staying hand pressed to her knee. “You’re welcome to use the grotto as much as anyone else.”
