Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Oh, I did. Just now.”
Well, impress the hell out of me.
She lifts her beer with the hand I’m not holding and yawns into the glass. “Sorry. I guess jet lag is starting to kick in.”
I stand, pulling her to her feet, too. “Let’s get you home, or at least your home away from home. Let’s get you to your hostel.”
When we step outside, crisp, cold air greets us on the street.
“It’s much cooler than I thought it would be,” Lennix says, chafing her bare arms. “Glad it’s a short walk.”
“Yeah, the weather here can be unpredictable and cool until it’s not.” I tug my leather jacket off and drape it around her shoulders.
“Oh, no.” She starts to slide the jacket off, but I stop her.
“Look.” I point to the long sleeve of my T-shirt. “I’ll be fine for a few minutes.”
She nods, reluctance and gratitude in her smile.
It’s a straight shot to her hostel, but I take us down a side street to stretch out our time. That and it puts us along the Amstel River, a romantic promenade if ever there was one.
Moonlight refracts from the glassy water. The slightest breeze, the breath of night, lifts Lennix’s hair, and I’m reminded how it seemed she commanded the very elements that day in the desert.
“You really were remarkable at that protest,” I say, breaking the companionable silence we’ve been walking in.
“Huh?” She looks up at me, her leisurely stride never breaking. “What?”
“At the protest that day. You spoke with such conviction and passion.”
“So many things were taken from us,” she says, her voice hushed but strong. “They tried to strip our language, our land, our home, our family. Even our traditions.”
I listen, wanting to hear her much more than I want to hear myself.
“To me, to many of us, activism is as holy as the ceremonies we almost lost because it connects us to the land and to our ancestors. It’s how we join their fight. We take our place in the line of generations who will resist.” A snort of cynical laughter escapes her. “Even when it seems like a lost cause.”
“It’s not.” I grab her hand and tuck it into the crook of my elbow, shorten my steps to match hers. “Don’t ever think that.”
She glances up at me, searching my face before nodding, smiling.
“Why Amsterdam?” she asks, shifting the focus to me.
“Well, Europe is far ahead of us in clean energy. For whatever reason, Europeans are less resistant to the energy shifts we need. I came here to study the progress they’re making. How the governments educate the populace and persuade them the changes are necessary. The Dutch are really forward-thinking, especially when it comes to wind.”
“You’re kinda smart, aren’t you?” She grins and tightens her fingers on my arm. “PhD and all.”
“I promise not to make you call me Doctor.”
“I think I will, Doc.” Her grin widens, and the humor is like a candle lit inside her, illuminating all the things I like most about her face. The pride in the jut of her chin. The strength to the set of her jaw. The kindness, intelligence, and curiosity in the metal/mettle silver eyes.
I break our stride, look down at her, and cup one side of her face in my hand. It’s cool against the dry warmth of my palm.
“Ask me how many times I’ve thought about you since that protest.” My voice scratches gruffly against the cool silk of the quiet night.
She stares up at me, and at first I think she’ll wave off my question, pretend this is normal, what’s happening between us. But she doesn’t do that. She doesn’t pretend or wave it off. She meets it head-on and answers with unflinching honesty.
“Maybe as many times as I’ve thought of you.”
CHAPTER 10
LENNIX
My father would lecture me until his face turned blue.
He’d send the authorities searching for me.
A man I met only once before tonight, a stranger whose last name I just discovered an hour ago, has me alone on a nearly deserted street in a foreign country at three a.m.
It may not be wise, but I’ll be damned if I would be anywhere else right now. Not safely tucked into my top bunk at the hostel knowing Maxim was out there wanting my company. We’ve been wooing each other with tiny touches and furtive brushes and lingering glances. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand it.
“So you thought of me, too, huh?” His grin is rakish on the handsome “somebody” face. There’s a Kennedy vibe about him. Not just the dark, dappled hair or the tall, fit body or the confidence in his shoulders. It’s his ideals and the iron will barely hidden beneath the casual manner. I’m not fooled. This man is not casual. He bleeds ambition. I wonder if he tries to hide it—to blend in with everyone else. It’s laughable to think he could camouflage his driven nature and be something that he’s not. Be domesticated when he is indeed, like Kimba said, a wolf.