Page 54 of If I Stopped Haunting You

But she’d chosen violence.

“Pen?” Laszlo called out as she thundered down the stairs. “Pen, what’s going on?”

Ignoring him, she crossed to the front door and tugged her boots on in the entry.

“Penelope!” Storm called from near the kitchen.

Damn it, she thought,he must have realized the stairs led down to another secret door on the first floor.

Pen cursed under her breath, pulling her jacket from one of the hooks. Her fingers shook as she buttoned it up, racing against the sound of Storm’s approaching steps.

“Penelope, please!” Pen turned toward Storm as he stopped in the hall, hands on his knees. “Please,” he wheezed, holding up a hand.

Shaking her head, Pen made to leave, but Storm reached out, his hand wrapping around her wrist, long fingers engulfing it. His grip was not tight, but the feel of his warm fingers was… it was…

She decided she didn’t want to think about what it was. Because if she did, they’d be heading in an entirely different direction. Hereyes met his before flicking to his hand. A beat. Then two. Finally, he let go, swinging around to block her path with an arm instead.

“Storm,” she hissed. “Let me go.”

“Where?” He shook his head, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Where are you going? You said it yourself: We’re snowed in.”

“I’ll figure something out. I always do, but I can’t be around you right now.”

“Because you wanted to kiss me.”

“Did not.”

“No?” He leaned close, and Pen felt the zing down her stomach, the sharp, almost painful throb between her legs as he stepped closer. “I have been trying to deny my feelings, Penelope, but I can’t any longer. This feud, this thing between us, has been over since we agreed to step foot in this castle. Can’t you see that we could be more?”

Honesty was too damn hot, and he was too damn hot, and god, she was sweating in her jacket now. Face heating, Pen made to move past him.

“I know you felt it too, Penelope!” He straightened, brow creased with concern as he reached for one of her hands. “Come on, let’s talk.”

“I’ve had enough of talking!” Pen shook her head and swung under his arm, but Neil dove forward and blocked the door with outstretched arms.

She froze, taking him in. There was something in the movement, in the way his shirt had been rolled up to expose a soft brown forearm with a tattoo of a quill that she’d never fully seen that had her blood singing. She said nothing, eyes glued to his arm, tracing black ink.

“But we can’t keep pretending—” he started.

“I will go on pretending as long as I want.” She blinked, breaking from the trance, and surged forward until she stood in front of him. “You can keep trying, and we can pretend that youhaven’t spent a better part of the time since I met you being too good for everyone, but there’s nothinghere.”

“But just now—” he argued.

“Just now, what?”

“Earlier in the study,” he started.

“Nothing.”

“And the snow?”

She leaned up on her tiptoes, ignoring him. “We made our apologies. We are working to be better. What more can you possibly want from me?”

“I want—”

“Is everything okay here?” Laszlo asked, appearing around the corner.

Pen sighed in relief. “Laszlo.”