Page 18

Still a hard no, which makes for three strikes.

I make my way back to my suite, testing doorknobs as I go.

Locked. Locked. Locked. Locked.

The only rooms I can explore are the same rooms that Erin has already shown me, and by late afternoon, I've confirmed what I suspected: I'm in a very comfortable, very spacious, very lovely...prison.

Yay, me.

When I return to my bedroom, I notice something new. Double doors to the balcony stand open, and outside, a table has been set for dinner.

Huh.

Two envelopes rest beside a covered silver tray. The first contains a printed medical report and photos. My mother's surgery—a surgery I didn't even know was scheduled—was successful, and to ensure her full recovery,Mamanhas been informed that she will be unable to receive visitors in the next 72 hours.

How...convenient.

The second envelope is square-shaped and sealed with wax—black and gold, featuring a skull wearing a crown. I use the silver letter opener to carefully break the seal, trying not to damage the intricate emblem.

Inside is a simple card.

Je suis désolé de ne pas pouvoir vous rejoindre pour le dîner. I'm sorry I won't be able to join you for dinner.

Votre mari. Your husband.

I tell myself this is a relief. And I swear I'm relieved. Truly!

The sun sets over the expansive grounds as I eat, and I'm surprised to find myself with an appetite. Maybe it's because I can't even remember the last time I've eaten. Or maybe the food is just that good. Salmon that's so juicy and tender it just melts in my mouth, and the buttery herbed cream sauce that goes with it?

Parfait. Perfect.

Night falls, but restlessness gnaws tirelessly at my bones, keeping sleep at bay. My gaze keeps returning to the door on the far wall, which I know canonlylead to his adjoining suite.

Oh, peu importe.

I jump out of my bed before I can talk myself out of it and pad barefoot to the door. "Monsieur?" I knock three times, wait a few seconds, before giving it a little push, andoh.

It swivels so fast I end up back where I started.

Comme c'est intrigant. How intriguing.

I give it another push, and this time I'm able to carefully step into his room, which turns out to be everything that mine isn't. Masculine versus soft. Dark versus pastel. Leather versus lace. And a bed that's about twice the size of mine...not that it matters. I just noticed, that's all.

On his nightstand sits another envelope, this one small enough to fit in my palm, attached to a lacquered black box.

Come find me if you dare.

I open the box, and my brows meet in a frown at its contents. Pieces of steel? No, not just steel—some kind of puzzle? My fingers are already moving and sorting through the pieces.

Click, click, click.

I end up with a lock pick, and my heart skips a beat.

Oh.

Is my new husband inviting me to break into someplace?

Well, if there's one thing I know how to do, it's exactly that.