Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Glancing around, looking for the resources never in short supply on a military base—a soldier or two or three, I might have avoided this morning that I’d sure welcome now.
Suddenly, the hair lifts around my neck, a soft breeze picking up momentary speed with a raw, masculine scent touching its depths. A second later, Creed appears right in front of me, close, so very close, and as big and broad and devastatingly sexy as he had been this morning.
“You really should come with a warning alarm of some sort,” I say, willing my racing heart to calm. Can he hear it? Can he sense my nerves? My attraction to him? I scold myself for how little I know about these men. About this man.
“So I hear,” he says dryly, his too-blue eyes flickering with a hint of unreadable emotion before he glances at my tire. “Looks like you need help.”
There is something overwhelming—perhaps decadent, even—about this man that has me, a well-educated scientist, struggling to remember how to form a proper sentence. “I…yes, please.” I brush a lock of blonde hair from my eyes and glance at the elevator, then at him. “Was that you this morning holding the elevator for me?”
He kneels to inspect my tire. “Yeah,” he says, tossing me an amused look over his truly spectacular shoulder hugged by a nice, tight black tee. “But apparently, strange men and elevators don’t work for you.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “I had a call,” I lie awkwardly and badly. The look he flicks me says he’s not buying it, so I just confess, “Okay, fine. I’m not beyond admitting I was a little intimidated. You windwalked without any visible wind. I didn’t know that was possible.”
He pushes to his feet and ignores my comment. “You’ve got a screw the size of a rocket launcher in that tire. It’ll have to be replaced.”
I’m not letting him off that easy. “Can everyone windwalk without any visible wind?”
“I can,” he says, his lids half-veiled now, his jaw a bit more tense. “I don’t pretend to speak for anyone else.”
Katie’s words play in my head. The stories of Creed are darn near legend. “You’re the only one who can do it, aren’t you? That’s why people talk about you. Because you’re different and it scares them.”
He steps closer to me, so close, I can feel the heat of his body. So close, I’m forced to tilt my chin up to look him in the eyes. His flicker and then turn solid black. “Do I scare you, Addie?”
Oh, yes, I think. He scares me, all right, but not for the reasons he assumes. This man reaches inside me and demands a feminine response I’m not prepared to give him, and yet I can’t help myself. I’m warm all over, my skin tingling with his nearness. In fact, standing here, looking into his eyes—I don’t care if they were black or blue—they speak to me in some soul-deep way that tells me far more than I think he knows. He’s showing me the GTECH, but on some level, I think—I know—he wants me to see the man. “I’ll make you a deal, Creed Monroe,” I say, my voice rasping with how affected I am right now, “I’ll be scared of you when you give me a reason to be. But just so you know, being all broody and showing me how well you can shift your eye color isn’t doing the job.”
Surprise flickers across his handsome features, and for a moment, I almost think he might smile. And, God, I really want that smile, and for reasons I can’t explain, I hang on a thin string waiting for it, until the moment is gone. Until he says, “Let me take you to dinner. I promise to work on being scarier while we eat. And for added effect, I’ll replace your tire when we get back.”
Warnings play in my head at the invitation. He’s a GTECH. I’m studying the GTECHs. My father had some involvement in how they came about that my gut is certain isn’t as innocent as he would have us all believe. It’s unethical for me to get involved with this soldier, but there is something about Creed, something I am inexplicably drawn to. “I shouldn’t,” I whisper. “I know you know why I shouldn’t.”
“Tell me why,” he urges.
“We both know who my father is. For all I know, you hate him and me.”
“You’re not like him,” he says simply, as if he’s looked into my eyes and knows all there is to know about me, and maybe he does. Maybe a GTECH knows. Or maybe he’s luring me in because he hates me. Maybe he will be the end of me, but somehow it feels as if it will be one hell of a bittersweet ending.