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Hotel Magnifique(51)

Author:Emily J. Taylor

“Do rooms usually harm guests?” I asked.

“Not that I’ve heard of, but Alastair isn’t exactly forthcoming.”

“Make it stop.”

“Trust me, if I knew how, I would.”

The edges of the bed continued to disappear until it was the size of my mattress at Bézier’s. My legs fell over the side. I planted my palms on the edge to shove myself back and cried out when the bed disappeared beneath them. I was going to fall.

“No, you don’t.” Bel grabbed my shoulders, jerking me back.

I landed on top of him, facing him, our arms tangled, and my nose pressed into the crook of his neck. My skirts had pushed above my knees, which were now on either side of his waist.

His stomach muscles flexed between my legs, and my neck heated against my will. He gripped my wrist. I struggled against him.

“Stop wiggling,” he said. “Look.”

Chest heaving, I touched the edge of the mattress. Miraculously, the bed had stopped shrinking. “How?”

“I have an idea,” Bel said, and let go of me.

The moment his fingers left my wrist, the mattress dissolved under one of my hands. I shrieked, and Bel wrapped his arms around me, his fingers threading through mine.

“It wants us to touch,” he said. “Skin to skin.”

The mattress was now the width of a banquette, but it wasn’t getting any smaller. Instead, glowing star ornaments floated down from somewhere above us, transforming the nightmarish room into something out of a dream. It was achingly romantic.

Bel shifted against me, and I tried not to think about how closely I was pressed against him, so I looked away. At our entwined hands. God.

My pulse hammered, and I desperately hoped he couldn’t feel it. When I didn’t think things could get more awkward, soft music began playing and rose petals rained down from above, filling the room with a heady fragrance that made my mind swim.

I swallowed. “This is . . .”

“I know.”

I tried to slide over so I wasn’t directly on top of him, but there wasn’t enough bed left. The skin on my neck burned, overly sensitive to every puff of air Bel exhaled against it. “How long are we stuck here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shifted, tucking one hand under his head. His other hand wrapped around my waist, and I froze.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’ll have to wait until the tour leaves regardless, so I’m getting comfortable.”

I cut him a glare. “Let me guess, you’ve been waiting weeks for this.”

The edge of his mouth lifted. “I dream of it every night. Your elbow jabbing my side, a murderous bed . . .”

It might have been nice lying here if I wasn’t painfully aware of how every corner of my body pressed into his. I didn’t dare move for fear of brushing something.

Bel tipped his face to the stars. The kiss marks along his neck were still visible, along with a shadow of stubble. My own mouth was inches away, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him there. Probably rough.

He drummed his fingers against my arm. “What are you thinking about?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

A laugh shook him. “As long as we’re trapped here, I suppose you could explain what exactly you were doing on this floor.”

“I—I can do that,” I said, utterly relieved to switch topics. I told Bel about Alastair’s reaction outside, then about Alpenheim in the atlas and the woman in the painting matching the ripped page in the book, the wolf-capped inkwell in her hand. Bel wasn’t surprised at any of it. Although he’d probably searched the room himself dozens of times. “There was also a sketch of a signet ring beside the atlas, just like the last time I was there with you.”

His muscles tensed.

“It’s an artéfact, right?”

“It’s one of the artéfacts Alastair has me looking for. I don’t know what it does, and I’m not supposed to speak of it. So please don’t ask again,” he said, bitterness tinting every word. Evidently the ring was a sore subject. “Is that it?”

“I also saw a map to Durc.”

“We do travel there from time to time,” he said dryly.

“That’s exactly my point. You could take us back. I could find Bézier, tell her everything. She could call the authorities before the hotel moves at midnight.”

“I can’t. Alastair would be skeptical if I changed our destination so suddenly unless it had to do with finding an artéfact.”

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