Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
I heard a snap and turned, the glow of a flame moving through the dark and lighting two candles on a table by the window. I slid my hands into the robe pocket and moved closer to the flame. “Did I see a fireplace?”
“I’ll light it if it cools down a bit. I didn’t want to cook us in here.” He smiled at me, the candlelight flickering off his face.
“Good point.”
Thunder clapped, and I glanced toward the sound. “Think we’re safe?”
“This building is the strongest thing in the county. There’s no safer place than right here.” He picked up a walkie-talkie, issuing a string of commands and waiting as one by one, managers and security reported in.
Power was out in the entire building. Emergency generators had the electronic lock systems operational, along with all security systems, cameras, and common area lights. So far, no problems to report.
He grabbed onto the end of a couch and drug it over to the window, setting in at an angle where we could view the levees and the waterfront row of shops and restaurants that lined the water. He sat down on the end of the couch and I settled next to him, curling up against his side. “You hungry?”
“Not really. I had a snack in the bar.” I thought of the shrimp cocktail appetizer and how nervous I had been while eating it. It seemed silly now—my nerves and my fear of him. Especially since he had seemed to harbor a secret attraction to me, for all this time.
I tilted my head back, looking up into his face. “So… you mentioned earlier that you told Dario to stay away from me.”
“That’s right.” He shifted, swinging his legs up on the couch and repositioning me so that I was lying on top of him. “I told him that you were mine.”
The authoritative tone in his voice was one that sent a tickle of happiness up my spine. “Do you often warn Dario off of women?”
“I never have before.” He tugged at the tie on my robe, loosening the knot. “And you’re the only women I would have done it over.”
“But…” I thought of all the years I’d worked in the tower, all of the intimidating looks he’d sent my way, all of the times he’d chewed me out or ignored me completely. “You’ve always been so…”
“Much of a jerk?” he suggested, sliding his hand into the open neck of my robe, his palm warm.
I curved into his touch. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I was always afraid you would reject me. I was focused on upper management. I thought…once I got there, that you’d see me in a different light.”
I looked up at him. His dark hair was messy, a result of my fingers. The candlelight danced across his features, and I admired the strong cut of his nose, the dark gleam of his eyes. He was an asshole, but he suddenly felt like my asshole—and I had the feeling, if I was his, that he’d fight off the world to protect me. I swallowed. “I like the light I see you in right now.”
“Good.” He scowled, but it seemed like more of a smile. “These candles are cheap. I’ll make sure to swap out those lamps in accounting and replace it with these.”
I laughed. “No. I mean… I like the Tripp I’ve seen tonight. I never needed a fancy title or a suite like this.”
His hand played over my stomach and rose higher, cresting gently along the curve of my breasts, the soft tips of my nipples. I inhaled at his touch and watched his smile widen.
“Levees along the waterfront have broken. Front Street is flooding.”
The calm, almost mechanical voice sputtered through the walkie-talkie and I turned, sitting up on the couch. “Oh my God. Tripp, look!”
It was almost eerie, how slow the water seemed to move. I watched as it swept along the front of the shops, its strength deceptive until it came across something. A bike, leaning against the art shop, vanished into it. The glass window of the little theatre crumpled, a spiderweb forming, then disappeared, water gushing through the open hole. I thought of the interior, the velvet folding chairs, the signed memorabilia from actors—all would be destroyed.
I stood, walking to the window, and pressed a hand on the glass, reassured by its strength. In here, the air was so still. The whistle of the wind was muffled, the crash of the waves silent. I felt like I was watching the storm from a thousand miles away and not a few hundred feet.
A waterspout formed, the tiny twister growing, and I watched as the funnel of water grew closer to land, debris kicking up along its path.
Tripp came up behind me, his arms wrapping around me. “Shit,” he said softly.