Free The Master's Exploits: Night One by Jessi Bond

what I’d find behind it.
    Stairs.
    Going down.
    And I was pretty sure it wasn’t a root cellar.
    Before I knew what was happening, I found myself standing in front of the polished wood. It was a beautiful door, but it stood out like a sore thumb. He wanted it to be noticeable. He wanted people to see it and wonder what might be behind it.
    I glanced down the hallway again, but sensing no movement, I risked tugging the handle just a little.
    The door swung open, silently. Like an invitation.
    As my foot landed, I prayed the first step wouldn’t creak. It didn’t. Holding my breath, I pulled the door closed behind me so I could slowly flick the light switch.
    The room was exactly as he’d described it. And then some. The bed in the corner, the array of toys on display - some beautiful, some diabolical, mostly both - and the massive St. Andrew’s cross, so much more imposing than I’d imagined.
    I was drawn towards it like a magnet. Laying my hand on the supple leather, I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to imagine how it would feel pressed up against my naked body.
    With an effort, I shook myself out of my trance. Against the wall, I saw two doors.
    That’s them. That’s the rooms.
    Again, my feet seemed to move of their own volition, and I approached one of them. My hand was on the knob when I heard him speak.
    “They really are locked.”
    I nearly jumped out of my skin, but managed to turn around slowly, and somehow, miraculously, I wasn’t blushing.
    “Just wanted to make sure you’re a man of your word,” I said.  
    “I am.” He leaned against the doorjamb, smiling, and I felt a tiny thrill. The real Dalton was back.
    “Well,” I said, adjusting my purse on my shoulder. “I’ll get out of your way, now that I’ve satisfied my curiosity.”
    He let me halfway up the stairs before he called up after me:
      “ Have you?”
    I paused, and turned around, just far enough to glance down and see him, still smiling, one lock of jet-black hair fallen over his eye.  
    “No, actually,” I said. “Not even close.”
    I could feel his eyes on me, all the way to the top of the staircase.
    ***
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