Page 24 of Vengeful Vows

“Yo-you didn’t.”

He did. He snuck up on me so agilely that I didn’t hear his steps, and it has made me mindful that Ark had every right to be furious last week. I’m not naked, and I still feel somewhat violated since I am in a bathroom. It is usually a place of sanctum.

When Rafael’s sigh announces he heard my lie from a mile out, I twist to face him. I both loath and admire the way he leans against the doorjamb like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

If only his worldly eyes announced the same.

They’re broken, though not as guarded as Ark’s.

“What did you want to a-ask?” I hate myself for stuttering, but it can’t be helped. He is in the doorway, blocking the only available exit. That’s as triggering as it comes for me.

The tightness spreading across my chest slackens when he steps deeper into the bathroom. “I wanted to ask you aboutthat.” At the end of his sentence, he lowers his eyes to the shampoo bottle I’ve almost crushed. “I was hoping you could tell me where I can buy it.” Again, I don’t recognize his expression. “Ark is almost out, so I thought I should grab him another bottle before he returns for his fifth shower of the day.”

When I roll the bottle in my hand, my heart rate quickens. Its lack of weight exposes it is almost empty.

Ark would have had to use it at least three times a day to deplete the almost full bottle he took from my bathroom. His hair is thick, but washing it even once a day is excessive.

“He knows this is sh-shampoo, right? It isn’t body wash.” When images a chambermaid shouldn’t have of one of her clients inflame my cheeks with need, I return my focus to thecore of Rafael’s question. “I purchase this brand from a local sa-salon. I can jot down the address for you if you’d like?”

Rafael gleams like a hunter who has locked in on their prey. “You use this same brand?” He sounds shocked. He needs to take acting classes. His stirring expression doesn’t mimic the bewilderment in his tone.

“Yeah. Um…” With words eluding me, I complete my reply with a nod.

My throat works through a hard swallow when Rafael pads closer. His shoulders aren’t as broad as Ark’s. I could easily squeeze by him if needed. My limbs just feel suddenly too heavy to attempt an escape.

Or perhaps I am intrigued.

Ark didn’t just steal my shampoo.

He’s been using it as well.

That’s shocking and somewhat enthralling. I took so long to wash Tillie’s vomit from my hair because I didn’t want to lose the scent of Ark’s aftershave on my neck. Could he possibly be trying to maintain the same infused scent?

I’m pulled from my thoughts when Rafael removes the bottle from my hand and inspects the label. It shouldn’t give anything away, but he homes in on the evidence as if he is Sherlock Holmes. “Is this your shampoo, Mara?”

“No,” I push out. “I don’t think s-so.”

I am a terrible liar.

I know this, and so does Rafael.

Mercifully, he doesn’t call me out as a liar.

Not directly, anyway.

“I was just asking because if it was yours, I could replace your bottle while buying Ark a new bottle.” The walls slowly close in on me when he says, “That would be the right thing to do in a situation where someone’s shampoo was stolen.”

“It would be,” I agree, nodding. “But that isn’t m-my bottle.”

He watches me for several heart-whacking seconds before he says, “All right. If you insist.” He twists to face the exit. “I better leave you to it. You said you have a full schedule, and who am I to question your word?”

I let out the breath I’m holding in, confident the screams of my lungs demanding air will stop me from nibbling on the bait he’s dangling in front of me.

I’m not strong enough to withstand the flames of hell.

“It’s my bottle. I-I think.” My last two words are nowhere near as confident as my first three. “It went missing from my apartment the afternoon Ark drove m-me home.”

I can’t see Rafael’s face, but I can feel his smile.

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