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“I’m all aflutter in anticipation.”

I turned around to kiss his cheek. “I’ll tell you about it later. I want to get changed quickly. I’m soaked through.”

“You are rather wet, but I thought you were just pleased to see me.”

I gave him a playful shove as I darted away from him. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Save me a seat, okay? And Quoth, too.”

Morrie blew me a kiss. “You’d better hurry, gorgeous. I’ve heard you don’t want to miss the chef’s pancakes.”

“Noted.”

I directed Oscar to our suite, which was right at the end of the hallway. I dug the room key from my pocket and opened the door. Heathcliff’s snores rattled through the room. He’d be grumpy that he missed out on pancakes, but I wasn’t going to risk his wrath by waking him up.

The grim light streaming through the windows illuminated a huge canvas on the wall – a bright-colored wave that made me think of what a song might look like if it were painted. I stood admiring it for a few moments, drinking in the colors and features I could still see, and I remembered Quoth telling me that Kelly-Ann, the art tutor he was taking classes with, painted all the work in the rooms.

That’s so cool. I think Quoth will enjoy learning from her.

I dug through my suitcase and pulled out the outfit I’d especially chosen for today – a pair of black slacks, a white silk vintage slip I’d altered into a top, and a black pinstripe blazer that might’ve once been part of a public boy’s school uniform, which I’d adorned with pins. The fashion designer in me knew that it was important to make a good impression for Hugh Briston, and I wanted something that said I was a serious writer but also let my personality shine.

It turned out that Hugh Briston was a mean, sexist pig, and now I didn’t give a fuck what he thought of me. But that wasn’t going to stop me from looking cute and feeling confident.If that sexist pig can teach me something about preparing my manuscript for publication, then this retreat will be worth the trip.

I ran a brush through my unruly hair and swiped on some lip gloss.

As I headed for the door, I noticed a light flashing in the closet. I lifted one of Morrie’s suits aside and found the room safe. I run my fingers over the face to feel the Braille labels on the buttons. The one beneath the flashing light read “A” for “Armed.”

It was then I remembered that Morrie was wearing a watch around his wrist in the hallway, and he hadn’t said anything about Quoth stealing a watch from the safe. Surely he would have noticed when he looked in there this morning?

Weird.

It’s probably nothing. I bet that Morrie let Quoth take that watch. He’s always had a soft spot for Quoth. He may act like he doesn’t care about anyone, but James Moriarty would give all his gold jewelry if it made one of us smile.

I shrugged my shoulders, kissed a snoozing Heathcliff on the forehead, and hurried downstairs.

As Oscar and I moved down the hallway, I couldn’t help but be distracted by the sound of voices in an adjoining room. After overhearing the conversation between Hugh and Charlie, my ears pricked for more juicy gossip.

I made Oscar stop, and strained to hear. But I couldn’t make out words – echoing along the hallways was the loud, unmistakable sound of a woman’s moans!

CHAPTERELEVEN

The woman moaned again, and I recognized the voice of Christina, the nice, if slightly desperate, gothic fiction writer I met last night.

“Harder,” she cried. “Harder!”

Her words dissolved into incoherent groans, drowned out by the rhythmic creaking of a piece of antique furniture being tested beyond its capabilities.

Wow, now I see why she’s with that Killian guy.I stood in the hallway for a moment, impressed by their stamina.By the sounds of those noises, he knows his way around a woman’s body. And she’s so into it. Good for her—

But I was shocked from my thoughts a moment later when a male voice called out her name.

And it wasnotKillian’s voice.

It was Hugh Briston.

This must be the ‘call’ he had to take,I thought.Hugh Briston is sleeping with one of the writers, and someone who he has promised a job.That was a pretty big misuse of his power.

Before I knew it, my feet were carrying me and Oscar down the hall to the door where the noises were coming from. I pressed my ear against the thick wood of a suite door and listened.

“Yes, Christina!” Hugh cried. “Milk my cock with that tight pussy of yours.”

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