This Haunted Heart: Gaslamp Romance by S. L. Prater

Author:S. L. Prater [Prater, S. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2025-01-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Rynn Mavis

Iawoke alone in the grass. The sun had dipped in the sky, and I was no longer pressed against the warm body of a man. My skin was bare to the elements. The drop in temperature as the shadows grew longer pulled me from my slumber.

My God, that had been an excellent fuck. My hips were covered in rounded fingerprint marks. My core ached pleasantly. My ass was still tender. The memories alone were enough to heat my skin all over again.

I hadn’t slumbered well at all the night before. It was no wonder I’d fallen so deeply asleep after two overpowering releases. My heart was an erratic mess, beating in a staccato that had to be unhealthy. My body was filthy. I pulled leaves and twigs free of my curls. My shoes were gone. My clothing was nowhere to be found.

My pirate was also gone.

He’d abandoned me out here without a stitch of clothing and no boots. I climbed to my feet, grumbling under my breath. Covering my breasts with my palms, feeling exposed and embarrassed, I marched for Nightingale House, cursing Finley’s name every time I stepped on a rock or scraped my foot on a stick.

“You will rue the day, you pirate,” I growled. “Rue. The. Day.”

My progress was slow, but I finally made it in through the front doors. Finley had left a housecoat hanging from a bronze torchier in the foyer for me. I stared stubbornly at the peace offering for a long moment before I slipped it on. Rolled up on an oaken chest was a large terry-cloth towel. I took it too, setting off for the lavatory. A bath sounded divine, and based on the filthy footprints I was leaving on the floorboards, it was a necessity.

I was more familiar with the back stairs than I was the main set, so I headed for them, passing the locked central room and the dining hall. As I neared the back stairs, I felt a pull in my gut, a tug of curiosity. I hadn’t thought about that strange black door again since I’d found it, but I was getting closer to it, could sense myself drawing near like iron to a lodestone. The temperature cooled, pebbling my skin.

I should have gone straight to the bathroom, but instead I padded down that hall, leaving more dirty footprints on floorboards that longed to be tread upon. The roses that flanked the door had been traded out for an even fresher set. These blooms were a dark shade of purple.

“I’m not curious because of ghosts,” I whispered to myself, failing to repress a shiver. “It’s all those locks. Not that supernatural nonsense. Who locks a door like that?”

Cold caressed my skin as I moved closer. Reaching out for the heavy padlock, the hairs on my arms rose to unsettling attention. I was inches from touching it when a knock sounded.

The thud was hollow and sudden and seemed to echo from everywhere all at once, surprising a squeal out of me.

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