Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
His hand came up to cup my face, the side of his thumb stroking my cheek. I leaned into him, his steady, solemn expression filling an empty place in my heart. Filling it so full it hurt.
“I know what you mean,” I said, my breath so tight in my chest the words barely squeaked out. “I'm feeling pretty lucky, too, right now.”
Royal's eyes crinkled at the edges, chasing off his serious expression. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Oh, really? Feeling lucky? How lucky?”
“This lucky.” I wound my arms around his neck, tilting my head up and tugging him closer. It felt like a million years since I had his lips on mine. As always, Royal didn't disappoint me.
His kiss started out gentle, his lips caressing mine, teasing them open, though I didn't need the tease. So many kisses and so little of anything else. I wanted Royal. Wanted his kiss, his touch. Wanted everything.
I made a little sound in the back of my throat and the kiss turned hungry, Royal's mouth demanding. My fingers curled, gripping his shirt. Our teeth clashed, tongues tangling, but neither of us pulled back. I arched into him, needing to get closer. More. I wanted more.
I was so lost in Royal's kiss, I almost missed it.
A low thump, like metal hitting wood. Then more—a harsh scrape of metal on metal and the muffled thud of footsteps.
Footsteps.
Royal got his head together before I did. He dropped his arms from around me and nudged me behind him, eyes scouring the room.
It didn't take us long to spot the trapdoor, flush with the floor. I thought we'd left it open. Royal must have agreed because he bolted across the room and yanked on the handle. The trapdoor didn't move.
He stared at it for a long moment before straightening and moving to the windows facing the path back to Heartstone. I joined him just in time to see a tall figure with gilded blond hair disappear into the trees.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Daisy
That fucking son of a bitch. Goddammit.” Royal spun around, eyes searching the room once again.
“What? What happened? Who was that?” Watching Royal pace back and forth, I had the distinct feeling he knew a lot more about whatever was going on than I did.
“It was Bryce. And I'm almost positive he just locked us in here.” Royal went back to the trapdoor and yanked again with no better luck than the first time. “It's supposed to lock from above, not below,” he muttered. “Bastard must have jammed it.”
My hands automatically went to my pockets for my phone. Nothing. This dress didn't have pockets, and even if it had, I'd left my phone in Royal's car. I hadn't planned on taking any calls while at dinner, and I'd figured it was close enough if I needed it. Close, maybe, but it might as well have been on the moon for all the good it would do me now.
“What do we do? What about your phone? Can you call the house?”
Royal pulled his phone from his pocket, scowling at the screen. “No service.” He tried to dial anyway, but the call didn't go through. “Useless,” he grumbled, tossing the phone onto the table.
I watched Royal pace around the room, looking out of the windows as he moved, studying the space for anything he could use to pry open the trapdoor. There wasn't much. And by not much, I mean there wasn't anything. The small room I'd taken for a closet turned out to be a rough bathroom with a composting toilet, a few jugs of water, and some towels. Good to know we had a bathroom since we were locked in here, but I would rather have had a way out.
Royal unearthed several bottles of wine and a few blankets from one of the trunks against the wall. In another, he found three of the oil lamps he'd mentioned, neatly stowed beside a box of matches and a can of oil.
There wasn't a single tool, radio, phone, walkie-talkie, or carrier pigeon. No way to break through the trapdoor and no way to let anyone know we were stuck. It didn't make sense.
“Why would Bryce lock us in the tower? Just to be a jerk?” From everything I'd heard, being a jerk seem to be Bryce's raison d'être, but trapping us in the abandoned watchtower seemed a little extreme.
Royal took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling and thinking furiously, his hands wrapped behind his head. He exhaled slowly, dropping his hands to his sides.
“Daisy, I'm so sorry this happened. If I'd had any idea he was following us, I never would have brought you here.”
“It's not your fault, Royal. I just don't get why he'd do it. Is he that much of an ass?”
“He is, but that's not why he did it.” Royal started to pace the room again, checking out the windows.