Spellbound

Original Edition: Thirty-Seven

The next morning, I worked on the budget with Larry and reviewed plans for the Winter Spirits with Hunter, even though I wouldn't be around to carry them out. I'd hoped to see Soren all day, but the most I heard was a couple bumps in the wall, probably for the sake of the guests. By four o'clock, I had finished my work for the day and was about to turn the key in my suite when my gaze darted to the sconce light fixture on the panel next to me. Soren had once told me not to try it, but that was before we became...friendly.

I needed to talk to Soren about my run-in with Archer and some things that had been on my mind. This was his private place, the haven Hazel designed for the brothers. I should have waited it out, but I couldn't. I was running out of time.

Looking down at my clothes, I wrinkled my nose. I was wearing a Reynard polo and khakis. Not exactly what I wanted Soren to see me in after two days apart. I ducked into my suite and jogged to my bedroom closet, stripping off my work clothes and putting on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a jade green sweater that dipped low in the front. Taking my hair down, I let it fall loose around my shoulders and dabbed on a bit of blush and mascara.

When I was satisfied that I didn't look like a hotel manager anymore, I took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. Before I could stop myself, I pulled on the light fixture and put my palm on the wall. Pushing gently, the panel gave way and swung open. I stepped inside, turning on my cell phone flashlight to light my way.

This passage looked no different from the rest—the same cold, gray stone walls and floors, the feeling musty and damp. It wound up longer than what I imagined, until finally I reached a set of black iron double doors that featured arched windows with floral embellishments. I chewed my lip, nervous to knock. Not because I was nervous to see Soren, but because I didn't want the wrong brother to answer the door.

I exhaled a long breath and rapped my fist on the door before I could chicken out. For almost a minute, nothing happened, and I considered knocking again, but the soft padding of feet stopped me. Soren opened the door and both of his eyebrows shot up.

"Gemma, what are you doing up here?" he asked, looking behind me like I was bringing the guests for a house party with me.

I shrugged, letting my arms drop to my sides. "I wanted to talk to you, and I...I just thought I'd see if you were home." It felt like a stupid thing to say. If he wasn't here, then he was somewhere on the property. Technically, he was always home. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry, I'll go," I said, turning away, rubbing my forehead with my fingers.

"No!" He grabbed my arm and ushered me backward. "I was just surprised to see someone knocking on our door. It's been quite some time. The last few years of her life, Hazel had problems navigating the stairs in the dark, so we always went to her. Come in."

He stepped to the side and I entered the only true home Soren and Archer ever knew. It was bright and open with sleek leather furniture and modern decorative pieces. A massive flatscreen tv was mounted to the grey stone wall and on each side were floor to ceiling bookshelves crammed with books. A MacBook sat open on the natural wood dining table with six high-back chairs. The kitchen area was filled with concrete countertops and stainless-steel appliances. The Hydes' home was a far cry from Hazel's suite that was stuck in the 1800s.

Soren gestured to the sofa and spoke over the smokey voice of Stevie Nicks playing from the stereo, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

I walked to the sofa and sank down into the soft leather. "Yes please. Just a soda is fine."

It was strange to be in his personal space, tucked inside his prison. He moved more freely here, his shoulders not as tense and his walk a bit lazy. It even made the dynamic between us feel different, yet he was just as courteous as always. This was where Soren could be himself with no worries.