Page 101 of Frozen Hearts
When he unlocks the cuffs, I rub at the skin before he grabs a hold of my arm and roughly pulls me to my feet.
“I can walk,” I snap, attempting to pull my arm out of his tight grip.
He only tightens his hold, glaring at me as he escorts me out the door and into the hall. My eyes bounce around the place, taking in the two sets of stairs—one leading up and one leading down—the three closed doors, and the faint sound of life coming from outside. The walls are bare, covered in dark navy wallpaper, and the wooden floor beneath my feet is warm and clean.
Underfloor heating. Fancy.
Straining my ears, I can’t hear anyone else in the house. “Who all lives here?” I ask.
“Just the three of us,” Logan responds gruffly, not paying me any attention.
“You, Grayson, and…”
He glances at me as he pushes open one of the closed doors, revealing a large, modern bathroom with a whitewash sink, toilet, a gorgeous, deep, freestanding tub in the middle of the room, and a large shower in the corner, complete with a bench and more jets than any shower should need.
I’m left waiting as he closes the bathroom door behind us and leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest. When I remain standing and staring at him, he lifts his chin toward the toilet. “Hurry up.”
Eyes widening, I glance between him and the toilet. “I am not peeing with you watching me.”
He quirks a brow, not moving a muscle as he silently observes me.
Frowning, I continue, “I also need to shower off this glitter.” I hold my arm out so he can see the raised bumps and red abrasions from where I’ve been scratching at it all night.
His lips flatten as he takes in the irritated skin before he huffs out a breath. Not meeting my eye, he snaps, “Fine. Towels are in the cupboard. You have fifteen minutes,” before stepping out of the bathroom and leaving me alone.
The second the door clicks shut behind him, I rush toward it, flicking the lock. I hear him chuckle through the door.Fucking shithead.
“A flimsy lock won’t keep me out. You have thirteen minutes left.”
I scowl at the piece of wood separating us but quickly turn my back on it and scope out the rest of the bathroom. There’s a frosted window above the toilet, and I lower the lid to climb on top of it. Unlocking the latch, I push up the window, giving me a view out the back of the house. I’m on the second story, overlooking a pretty garden complete with a decking area and hot tub at the end of a row of terrace brownstones. Beyond the house, fields stretch as far as the eye can see, and I can only assume we’re on the outskirts of Halston.
Pulling my head back in, I do another scan of the bathroom, but there isn’t anything else I can do right now except shower.
Hurrying into the cubicle before Logan barges in here and tells me my time is up, I quickly scrub the glitter from my skin and lather it in vanilla-scented shower gel. I’ve just wrapped a towel around me when there’s a loud rap on the door.
“Time’s up, Cinderella,” Logan barks.
“Hold on!”
The words are barely out of my mouth when the door flies open and Logan stomps in.
“Hey! I locked that!”
“And I told you a locked door wouldn’t keep me out,” he retorts with a conniving smirk before he takes in the fact I’m wearing nothing except a towel, my damp hair hanging limply around my face. His eyes flash with heat, which should maybe make me uncomfortable, but all I feel is relief. He can’t wholly hate me if he still finds me attractive, right?
“Logan,” I hedge, taking a step toward him.
Ripping his eyes away, he glowers at a point on the wall as he throws out his arm. “Put these on.”
Swallowing back the words lodged in my throat, I take the garments from his outstretched hand. “Seriously?” I growl, holding the piece of string masquerading as a bra with the tip of my finger. The two tiny triangles have barely enough fabric to cover my nipples. It and the thong are more revealing than anything I’ve worn at Lux.
“If you prefer, I can take back the T-shirt.”
“No,” I blurt, clutching the T-shirt like it’s a lifeline. Holding the articles of clothing to my chest, I stare at Logan, and when he notices I’m not getting changed, he drags out a weary sigh and finally turns his head to face me. “You need to turn around,” I explain to him.
“Really, Riley? You put your body on display for a living, yet you can’t change in front of me?”
“I’m not naked when I’m on the stage,” I snap irritably. “And you lost any right to see my body.”
