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Dark Horse

Page 101

by C.R. Jane

I continued to smirk, and she growled at me as I led her up the sweeping staircase. Her boots tapped uncertainly against the polished wood as her eyes darted from the sconces to the framed photographs to the carved banister.

Down the hall, I stopped at the door to the guest suite and pushed it open.

She stepped inside and froze.

The guest room was large, with a king bed set against the back wall and a small fireplace flickering softly across from it, casting warm light over everything. The en suite, with its marble tile, glass shower, and deep soaking tub, had her turning a slow circle like she couldn’t quite decide if it was real.

“All of this looks brand new,” she murmured as her fingers brushed the marble vanity.

“I renovated it when I moved back from New York,” I said. “I wanted it to feel updated.”

And different from the home I grew up in.

“Updated,” she echoed faintly. “This looks like a mountain lodge that won the lottery.”

I shrugged.

She gave me a long, assessing look, then casually asked, “So where’s your room?”

“Next door.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and startled, a hint of alarm tightening the corners. “Next door,” she repeated.

“Mmhmm.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then pointed at me with one tense finger. “If you think that means anything⁠—”

“It doesn’t,” I said smoothly.

“It better not.”

“But you asked.”

“I asked so I could avoid it.”

“Good luck with that,” I murmured.

She made another small, frustrated sound, one a cornered cat might make before deciding whether to bite. It only pushed my smile higher.

I lingered in the doorway, letting the charged silence wrap around us for a moment. “Do you need anything?” I asked, my voice low, all the rough edges sanded down.

She shook her head fast enough that her hair whipped her cheek. “No. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Extremely fine.”

“Yes, you are,” I said, letting my attention drift to the slow rub of her thighs, a small, needy motion she probably didn’t know she was making. “Sweet dreams, then.”

Her breath caught in a soft little hitch. “Sweet dreams,” she echoed, like I’d caught her off guard by not pushing her any further.

I stepped backward, into the hall. “It would be impossible not to have sweet dreams after today,” I said with a wink.

Heat climbed her throat in a sexy, blooming flush as she scowled at me. “I’m glad my break-in trauma is really enhancing your nighttime relaxation routine.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” I grinned, memorizing her indignant gasp as I closed the door behind me.

I was still smiling as I moved down the hall and descended the stairs, my steps unhurried as I made my way to the narrower door tucked out of sight—the one that led to the basement.

I hadn’t exactly planned on having company tonight. Which meant there were…loose ends that needed attention. I preferred the incinerator to get rid of bodies, but this one was less pungent.

My grip tightened slightly before I turned the handle and stepped inside, locking it behind me. I descended the stairs, the air cooling with every step, the faint warmth of the house above giving way to something denser and quieter. By the time I reached the second flight and made my way down, the basement had settled into that familiar chill that clung to my skin.