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Finally, she rolls her shoulders and stomps her way up to her room, slamming the door once she’s inside.
“You gonna let her get away with that?” Oliver asks from the living room.
“Don’t you worry about what I let her get away with.” I keep my eye on the closed door. She’s probably stewing. I’ll give her a few more minutes before I head up.
Then we’ll have a nice long chat.
CHAPTER 7
Seraphina
The bedroom door opens and closes.
I push myself further into the corner of the bathroom nearest to the door so I can hear what’s happening on the other side.
“Sweetheart, you’re only making things worse for yourself, now come on out of there.” Colt knocks softly. The bedroom door doesn’t lock, but this one does.
I bite down on my lip. He went away earlier when I wouldn’t come out, there’s some hope he’ll do the same now.
Right?
“Seraphina.” His voice hardens. “I’m giving you a fair chance here, open the door and come out.”
I stare at the doorknob as he jiggles it. But the lock’s solid; I don’t think he’ll get inside.
“All right. But remember, this was your decision.” He smacks the door. A few moments later, the bedroom door opens.
I press my ear to the bathroom door because the other door didn’t shut. Is he still there? Maybe it’s a trick to get me to open the door to peak out. Settling back against the wall, I fold my arms over my chest.
I’m not falling for it.
The doorknob jiggles again. The door vibrates and I step back from it.
“What are you doing?” I yell. “Just go away!”
“Not happening, darlin’” His southern drawl thickens.
My chest squeezes when the handle falls from the door with a clank as it hits the bathroom tile.
Oh no.
The door swings open next, and I rush backward. There’s nowhere to run or hide. I’m in a damn bathroom.
Colt’s eyes blaze as he puts the drill down on the countertop and stands to his full height, hooking his hands on his hips. I’m frozen, staring at him and taking stock of how his collared polo shirt stretches over the broad muscles of his chest, his arms, and his tight stomach. His long, thick fingers flex into his hips as I continue to gawk at him.
“Are you going to cooperate yet?” he asks in a low drawl that suggests I should start moving, but then his right hand caresses the thick, black, well-worn leather belt hugging his hips and I’m stuck all over again.
“Have it your way.” It takes two strides for him to reach me. He grabs hold of my hand, tightly lacing his fingers through mine, and tugs me from the bathroom. I’m half dragged behind him as he goes to the bedroom door and kicks it closed. I barely reach him before he spins around and yanks me to the vanity on the other side of the room.
Numb to my own fear, I watch as he jerks the chair from the vanity and plops it down in front of him. I barely register when he lets my hand go and turns to stare down at me.
“Pull down those shorts, and your panties too.” He wiggles a finger at my hips.
I slowly raise my eyes to his because he has to be joking.
There’s not an ounce of levity in his hard gaze.
“I can’t,” I finally say.
