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I shoved harder. Still nothing.

"Let go."

His arms immediately dropped.

I pouted. That hadn't been what I wanted.

Gunnar stepped back. The path between me and the door was clear.

I took a deep breath. I knew he was watching me. I heard his heart rate increase as he waited for me to make my move. And then I did.

I darted around the foot of the bed, losing my robe in the process. Gunnar could have caught me immediately. We both knew it. Instead, he came around the opposite side.

I changed direction.

So did he.

I could hear him a step behind me. I could feel him closing in. Gunnar had a presence that filled every available inch of space, and right now all of that attention was focused on me.

My skin prickled with anticipation. I darted toward the sitting area. Twelve steps from my side of the bed to the sofa. Coffee table three feet in front of it. Armchair angled toward the fireplace with just enough space between them for me to slip through. I made it eight steps.

Gunnar's footfalls cut across mine. His steps should've been heavy, but they were silent as a wolf padding through the forest. I tracked him by the scent of copper and peppermint.

I stopped short.

He'd cut me off.

I turned. He let me.

I took in the lay of the land, plotting my escape. Bed behind me. Sitting area to my left. Dresser along the far wall. A clear path to the bathroom on my right.

I didn't want to escape. I wanted to be caught. But not yet.

I bolted toward the bathroom, counting steps automatically. Three. Four. Five⁠—

His breathing changed behind me. Closer.

I squealed and changed direction, one hand finding the carved bedpost exactly where memory said it would be. I swung around it and ran along the side of the mattress.

A low growl followed. Too close. His fingers brushed my waist.

I twisted away. Barely.

I knew immediately what had happened. He'd let me.

"Bastard."

"Brat."

I ran again to the bathroom. I knew the instant I crossed the threshold that I'd made a tactical error. One entrance. No alternate exit. Smooth walls. Limited obstacles. I had voluntarily run into a box.

Gunnar filled the doorway.

I backed up.

He advanced.

My pulse thundered as he stalked toward me, giving me every opportunity to tell him to stop.