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Five minutes later, Sloane was locked in “Artemis’s” room. She went straight to the bathroom, used the toilet, and simultaneously turned on the bathtub faucets.

The combined sounds of the flushing toilet and the running bathwater were more than enough to silence the tones of her cell phone as she turned it on.

Dammit. The reception was practically nil.

She walked all around the bedroom, including as close to the window as she dared to go, to see if she could get more than one bar. No change.

She had to try something. Her voice would be garbled with only one bar. If a call wouldn’t go through, maybe a text message would.

Swiftly, she navigated the phone’s menu to text messaging, punched in Derek’s number, and pressed OK. Then she typed the following:

luke. 12–24 hr 2 live. mtns. c wash monmnt 2 e. BOMB.

She pressed send.

The chances of him getting the message were bleak, not without a stronger signal.

She’d have to get outside and resend it where the reception was better.

And she knew just how to accomplish that.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

I thought Artemis might enjoy having dinner with me. Not locked in her room, but downstairs, in the dining room. I had never actually eaten in there. What better occasion than this?

So I came up to invite her.

I knocked on the bedroom door, and when there was no answer, I unlocked it and pushed it open a crack. “Artemis?”

No reply.

Now I was worried. I shoved open the door and stalked in, half worried that something had happened to her, half panicked that she had tried to escape.

As I opened my mouth to call her again, the bathroom door swung open, and she stepped into the room, wearing nothing but a bath sheet. It was wrapped securely around her, revealing nothing, but that didn’t excuse my intrusion on her privacy.

I froze.

Her gaze widened as she saw me, her hand instinctively grasping the knot at the top of the towel. “Delphi. I wasn’t expecting you. I…”

She was mortified. How could I blame her? She was a goddess of virtue, a maiden in every way. Having a man walk in on her

bathing ritual was akin to blasphemy.

Recovering myself, I averted my gaze at once, feeling utterly ashamed. I lowered my head and retreated from the room, shutting the door behind me.

“I deeply apologize,” I told her through the door. “I had no idea you were indisposed. I called your name. When you didn’t answer, I got worried. I have no other excuse.”

“It’s all right, Delphi,” she assured me calmly. “I trust you. I know you would never do anything indiscreet. It was an error—mine as well as yours. I should have been listening for your knock. Instead, I was savoring my time in that magnificent bathtub you gave me. I must not have heard you over the water draining from the tub.”

I bowed my head, feeling both relief and esteem. She was as forgiving as she was gracious. I was indeed fortunate.

“Thank you for your tolerance. I’m glad you know I’d never invade your privacy. Never.”

“I do know that. Let’s forget it ever happened. Besides,” she added, “I had a wonderful idea, and I wanted to seek your approval.”

“By all means.”

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