Page 34 of Gilded Locks

“Shit.” She needed to think.

These men were thorough, and with the surveillance system around the house—House? Castle? What the hell was this place?—Regardless of the name, she needed to remember she had no privacy. They were most likely watching her now. Observing. Studying her every move to see how she thought and acted.

Sudden awareness washed over her like a chill. She would only show what she chose to share. Just because she was their prisoner and…

She winced, not wanting to admit that she was now some sort of communal concubine. She was a prisoner. But so was the sultan’s wife, the one who enchanted him for a thousand and one nights.

She needed to be smart. She couldn’t show fear. And she wouldn’t cower. Whatever these next few days brought, she’d face it head-on and deal with the fallout later. Eventually, the storm outside had to pass. And while they might be the only home for miles, they certainly weren’t the only men in the Isles of Kassel.

The more agreeable she pretended to be, the more freedom and trust they’d allow. She could do anything for a short time. This wasn’t her forever. If she played their little game, she’d eventually break free. Then, she could follow her plan to start a new life.

Aware she had an invisible audience, she sat up and ran her fingers through her golden hair, breaking up the tangled curls. When the blankets fell, exposing her breasts, she didn’t bother to cover herself. The more comfortable she became with her nudity on her own, the less they could use it to manipulate her.

Sliding out of the bed, she walked naked to the armoire she had visited last night. Only this time, when she tried to open the doors, it was locked.

I don’t trust you, beautiful liar…

Hunter made it clear he didn’t want her there, yet he brought her right to his bed, to his personal space. Why, if he thought her a thief and a spy? She rolled her eyes and scanned the room for other dressers. There were three. Each one locked.

Slamming her hand on the surface of the last bureau, she chewed her lip. “Asshole.”

Fine. He wanted to leave her without clothes? She’d manage. Yanking the dark, silk sheet off the bed, she carelessly let the outer covers fall to the floor and wrapped the silk around her like a black toga, twisting the fabric into a sort of asymmetrical halter.

Pleased with her design, she left the room to explore the house, passing the next hour through an imaginary game of follow the leader. In each room she entered, she searched for the gold bear. When she found it, she made an ugly face at the beady little reflective eyes. By the time she reached the end of the second floor, she’d grown bored with the game and started flipping the bear the finger.

Where were they? So much for hospitality.

Irritated and antsy, she debated what to do next. She remembered the dungeon. That was the only room she avoided on her journey. What if they were there—awaiting her?

Her eyes turned to the long hall, as she debated continuing her search. But the game no longer tempted her. Not down that hall.

Her gaze jerked to the ceiling, where a soft buzzing sounded from the beaded chandelier overhead. She squinted at the peculiar black gem in the center. Then it moved like an eye—watching her—and she bolted forward, quickly moving out of view.

Chapter 8

Mouse in a Maze

“She’s up to something.” Stone zoomed in, following her from one camera to the next as she walked briskly down the east hall.

Ash flattened his palms on the desk, too worked up to sit down. “What the hell was the point of making her agree if we’re just going to leave her alone?”

Stone met his brother’s bruised stare. “You better put more ice on that.”

“Fucking Hunter.” He pressed the frosty glass of vodka to his eye. “He always does this.”

Stone laughed. “Right. This is exactly like the last time we took a woman captive,” he said dryly, as if anything like this had ever happened before.

“You know what I mean. He always thinks he’s in charge?—”

“Shut up.” Stone leaned forward. “She’s going to The Cave.”

Ash set down his glass and watched as she stared up at the camera planted above the door. “Wait until she sees what’s on the other side.”

“She knows. She was there last night.”

His surprised gaze jumped to his face, but quickly returned to watching Mary. “What are you up to, little lamb?”

Her delicate hand reached for the knob, and she frowned. Jiggling it again, she kicked the door and let go.