‘Scream and you are dead,’ he snapped, and released her mouth so that he might open the door. She lost it in the Mint. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround. CHAPTER XXXII. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person.
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