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Mae puts the tray on the floor. Her fingers tug on the mattress’ cover and pull it with a force that trips her and almost causes her to fall.
‘Safe.’ Mae’s lips read.
I couldn’t turn the volume on in such a place, so I’ll have to put my lips’ reading skills into use.
She wraps the sheet around her body, the white cloth serving as a ghost’s halo.
Her mouth blows air into her palms as she resumes her pacing. This time, her eyes dart around the room, assessing every stone, every corner, and every tile of the floor. Her concentrated gaze stops now and then. Her brows furrow, her lips pout, then she shakes her head in obvious dismissal.
Hell. Her features are so expressive, it’s almost unbelievable.
When her observation— or whatever she’s doing— is over, one of her hands keeps the sheet in place while the other runs along the walls as if looking for a secret passageway.
Mae’s fingers reach one of the doors. She stops for several beats, eyes narrowing before she pulls at the small latch with her free hand. When that doesn’t work, she uses both hands, letting the cover fall to the floor. She then places a leg to the wall and pulls. The pale skin of her thigh distracts me, but I rip my gaze away and refocus on her reddening face, and gritted teeth.
After several moments, she loosens her hold with a frustrated stomp.
Well, she’s doing it the wrong way.
‘Why. Don’t. You. Open?!’ She pounds the metal between every word.
The door swings open. She jumps back like a frightened kitten, her expression morphing into pure horror.
Maybe not enough horror.
Like any kitten, curiosity gets the best of her. With tense footsteps and spooked posture, she dips her head inside.
I navigate through cameras until the small bathroom comes into view.
Mae releases a long breath. ‘Oh, all I had to do was push?’ She pats herself on the shoulder. ‘Great job, Mae.’
What the...?
My chest reverberates as a deep laugh leaves my lips, the sound echoing in my empty surrounding.
If I knew it would be so entertaining to watch her up close, I would’ve taken her the night I met her.
Mae gasps when she sees her reflection in the mirror. A grimace of disgust forms on her soft features before she glares at the chaotic version of herself. She combs her hair with her fingers then washes her face.
Her gaze falls on the shower and her lips pout— again. She works on the faucet and grins when water drenches her palm.
How can an insignificant thing make her eyes shine with happiness?
How can someone who’s easily satisfied paint that darkness?
It made no sense.
She tucks her hair to the side, exposing a bare delicate back. Her hand shoots to pull the zipper of her provocative dress.
My nerve endings tingle as my hand tightens around the phone, gaze concentrated on the slow strip show.
One that’s not meant for me.
When the little zipper’s halfway down, Mae halts her movements— as if feeling my eyes on her. She dashes to the door and closes it. Her gaze roams the bathroom, probably looking for a camera. One that’s hidden beyond recognition.
“I knew you would be here.” Lowell’s wife’s voice sounds from behind me.
I thrust the phone back into my pocket. “My Lady.”
