Page 18 of Gilded Locks

She shut her eyes, and he let her go.

“Stolen invitation, stolen identity, stolen coat, probably stolen shoes. I wonder if she paid for the manicure.”

These men noticed everything. The quiet one’s gaze raked over her hands, and she instinctively curled her fingers to hide evidence of her privileged upbringing. “You’re wrong about everything.” Even to her own ears, her words lacked conviction.

“Are we?” The playful one at her legs lowered his chest, further caging her in at the knees. Heat radiated from his powerful frame. “Prove it. Tell us who you really are.”

The weight of their combined attention pressed down on her like a physical force. Three pairs of eyes—emerald green, black obsidian, and ice-blue—all focused on her with laser intensity. They were waiting for her to crack, to spill secrets that would destroy the fragile new life she was trying to build.

She couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it.

“I told you my name. It’s Mary Langford. I was visiting when I got caught in a storm.”

The rugged one snorted with derision. “Bullshit.”

“Hunter,” the blond’s voice carried a note of warning that could have frozen summer rain. “Leave it.”

Hunter… How oddly fitting for a man who made her feel trapped since the moment she first saw him.

“Leave it?” Hunter’s attention snapped to the blond with incredulous fury. “Every word out of that pretty mouth is a goddamn lie.”

“That doesn’t matter.” The blond’s tone was perfectly controlled, perfectly reasonable, the voice of a man accustomed to being obeyed. “She’s here. She’s agreeable. What difference does it make who she was before?”

Before.

The word hung in the air like smoke after the flame. Marigold realized that, to these men, her past was already dead. Maybe so was she. Even Mary Langford—or whoever she claimed to be—would cease to exist the moment she agreed to their terms. Agreed to be theirs.

What if this was merely them playing with their food and they never planned to let her go?

“The difference,” Hunter growled, voice dropping with malice, “is that secrets are poison. What if she came here for a reason? Someone could be looking for her. We don’t know who she’s working with.”

“Look at her.” The handsy, green-eyed Viking said as he caressed her thigh, dragging his warm palm slowly upward. “She’s already agreed whether she’s admitted it out loud or not. You guys are bickering about irrelevant bullshit.”

Her thighs pressed together, stopping his hand from traveling any further. He stilled, their eyes locking in challenge. He could have easily overpowered her. Instead, he released her thigh and rolled casually to his side. “We all know how this is going to end.”

“Stone,” the blond said in warning. “Until she agrees, nothing is promised.”

“Use your head,” Hunter, the largest of the three, snapped. “She’s making it too easy because she’s hiding something. Stop thinking with your dick.”

“You’re paranoid.” Stone glanced up at her with those penetrating green eyes. “There will be plenty of time to get to the truth. Our little thief isn’t going anywhere. Are you, sweetheart?”

The endearment sent heat spiraling through her chest like liquid fire. He wasn’t her ally, but he wanted her to believe he was.

She glanced out the window at the steel-wool sky, coarse and laden with dark clouds as the relentless blizzard locked her in. Stone’s hypnotic touch returned to her leg, unraveling something inside of her as he traced small circles against her skin.

“Such a long winter…” he teased, tracing his finger higher. She should pull away, should be disgusted by his presumption. Instead, she forced herself to relax under the contact like a flower unfurling beneath the sun.

She needed them. And they wanted her. It was a steep price, but the cost of her survival.

Sensing her agreeability, his mouth curved with a slow grin. “You’ll learn, in time, that I have ways of getting women to talk. Hell, I’ve even made a few drop to their knees and pray.”

“Do we have your agreement?” the blond pressed, reminding the others, “Nothing happens without her consent.”

How strange that they required such an intangible accord when they clearly held all the power. Their cards weren’t on the table, but hers were. She was a body with a stolen identity, desperate to protect her secrets and willing to do anything to survive. They didn’t care if she lay in a bed of lies, as long as she understood it was theirs and submitted to their absolute authority while under their roof.

“Ash asked you a question,” Stone said, his green eyes taunting as his trespassing touch teased at the hem of her sweater.

She looked at the blond he called Ash. “I...”