“In my room. Perhaps you’d like to search it for secret passages.”
“What are the odds of me finding one in there?”
“Slim,” he said, and one side of his mouth tilted into a smile. “But there’s always that chance.”
“Sounds like my kind of party.” She turned and tugged on his tie, dragging him toward the door.
***
Later, when Gretchen was curled in his bed, sleeping and sated, Hunter got up and went back to his office, shrugging on a robe over his naked body.
He picked up the letter she’d discarded and studied it. A secret room. Damn it. When he’d had Eldon purchase the trunk of letters, he’d had them tested for authenticity. They’d been carbon dated and he’d been assured the dates were real and that the letters not a hoax. He’d never imagined that he was purchasing Victorian porn. Even worse, he’d never considered that they’d point to architectural oddities that would mark the location.
If Gretchen pushed about the secret room or if she found more compelling evidence about the house in the letters, she’d piece together that the letters weren’t about Buchanan Manor at all. They were a fraud.
Just like he was. He’d orchestrated all of this to bring her to him, never imagining such happiness. He’d simply wanted to experience being around her bright personality for a time.
Except he’d fallen for her. Hard. And he wasn’t going to lose her to a stupid mention of a secret room in a few letters.
He resisted the urge to crumple the letter into a ball and instead set it down carefully and rang for Eldon.
Eldon arrived a few minutes later, in his own pajamas and robe. His hair was slightly mussed as if he’d just come from sleep, but the look on his face was carefully neutral. “You called for me, Mr. Buchanan?”
Hunter gestured at the letter on the table. “You didn’t read these before purchasing them, did you.”
Eldon’s face remained impassive. “I did not. I procured them as you wished, but my instructions never included reading the letters myself.”
“They mention a secret room.” Hunter tossed the letter toward Eldon, his temper getting the better of him. “Gretchen came here looking for it.”
Eldon neatly plucked the fluttering letter out of midair and began to read. His mouth thinned with displeasure as he did. “This letter is quite vulgar.”
Hunter snorted, clasping his hands behind his back as he paced. “They’re all quite vulgar, or didn’t you know that?” At Eldon’s silence, he shook his head. “This is supposed to be a very innocent batch of letters, Eldon. From Buchanan Manor. Not some other nameless house with secret doors and libraries. If she finds out this is a fraud, she’ll leave.” Sudden panic seized him and he clenched his teeth. “I don’t want her leaving here. Leaving me.”
“She’s not a dog,” Eldon said in a dry voice. “She’s allowed to leave your property on her own wishes.”
He gave Eldon a cold look. “You know what I mean. I want her here for as long as possible.”
Eldon’s long face studied him. He sighed, his expression softening just a touch. “You do realize she’s almost done with the project, Buchanan?”
Hunter’s pacing increased. “I thought she was here for a full month. How long has it been?”
“A little over three weeks. And she’s nearly done with the trunk. She’ll be leaving very soon.”
His hand raked through his hair rapidly, his thoughts furious. No. Not when everything was going so well. Not yet. “I . . .” Words failed him. He turned to Eldon.
“Fix this.”
Eldon held up the letter, unperturbed by Hunter’s bad mood. “Fix this? Or fix the part about her leaving?”
“Yes. To both.”
“Very well. Shall I shackle her left leg or right?”
Hunter glared at him. “That’s not funny.”
“What do you suggest I do to prevent her from leaving?”
Hunter’s mouth settled into a grim line. “I don’t know. Just think of something. She needs to stay longer. I’m not ready for her to leave my side. Not yet.”