Page 87 of Gilded Locks

He prowled closer, graceful and deadly, moving like an agile giant, each footfall silent on the marble floor, despite his heavy boots. “You called for me.”

“I did not—” Blood drained from her face. Had he been watching her? Spying? Her gaze dropped to the water as mortification burned through her veins. “You bastard.”

“That might be true, but I heard what I heard.”

“You heard wrong.”

“Liar.” The word rolled off his tongue like a caress. He crouched beside the tub, one massive hand gripping the porcelain edge. This close, she could see the pulse jumping in his throat, could smell the pine smoke and raw masculinity that clung to his skin. “You whispered my name like you were tasting it.”

Shame scorched her cheeks. He couldn’t know what she’d been thinking. Couldn’t have known what she’d done. Her gaze shot to the bear camera.

“Yes.” He affirmed, not needing to follow her gaze to track her line of thought. “I watched the whole thing.”

The realization hit like ice water.

“Heard every breath.” His gaze tracked down her throat to where the water barely covered her breasts. “Every word.”

“You had no right.”

“I have every right.” He reached for her, and she pressed back against the far side of the tub.

“Don’t.”

“You’re mine to protect. Mine to watch.” He extended his hand, waiting. “Mine to use.”

“You rejected me.” Not once, but twice. “You’ll do it again. You’re only doing this to punish me.”

His hand froze inches from her skin. Something dark flickered across his features. “Not all punishment hurts.”

“Well, rejection does. Play games with someone else, Hunter. I’m not interested.”

His name on her lips, even in anger, was an aphrodisiac for the soul. “This time, I won’t reject you.”

“No.”

He stilled, then stood, furious she’d think to deny him after giving herself to her brothers several times over. “That’s not a word I abide from you.” He plunged both arms into the water and lifted her out as if she weighed nothing.

“Let go of me!” Water sluiced off her body, soaking through his shirt, dripping onto his boots, and sloshing onto the floor.

He gathered her against his chest, walking her out of the warm bathroom. “We’re past the point of resistance.”

She gasped as cold air awakened her wet skin, instinctively curling into his warmth even as she fought to get free. “You animal!”

He carried her to the bed and tossed her down unceremoniously, then stepped back. The handmade birch frame creaked as she scrambled for the blankets, her shaking limbs radiating fury as she wrapped her body in white fur.

“I hate you!” she snapped.

“You’re clean now.” His voice had gone rough, accent thicker. He undid his belt, pulling it slowly through each belt loop so she fully understood where this was going. “Fresh.” He toed off his boots. “No trace of them on your skin.”

She clutched the furs tighter to her chest. “Why are you doing this now? You said you didn’t want me. You said you wouldn’t.”

“Our circumstances have changed.” He circled the bed like a predator stalking prey as he stripped off his shirt.

“Does this have to do with Jordan? Did something happen?”

“Leave his name out of this.”

“How can I, when you plan to punish me? And I don’t know what I did wrong!”