“Copy that. You sound…different. Everything okay?”
“Fine.” I wouldn’t even know how to begin explaining. “Just can’t wait to curl up under my new down duvet.”
“Understandable. And don’t worry. I’m out the door myself in five. You know, you might live here, but even the front desk technically closes down sometimes. Get some rest, okay?”
I can’t summon the energy to be annoyed at her nagging when I know she means well. “You too, Len. Be safe driving home.”
I stare at the screen for a long time after the line goes dead, reliving Kellin’s kiss.
When I finally switch off the lights and lock the office, the hallway is too quiet. The click of my heels on the marble bounces off the walls and ceilings.
Even with Declan’s men camped on every floor, the hotel settles into its routine nighttime rhythm. Tonight feels different, though, like the building’s in on a secret.
Inside the elevator, my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored doors. I inspect my flushed cheeks, unkempt hair, and slightly parted mouth. If my dad or brothers joined me for the ride, I’d never escape the humiliation.
I look like a woman who’s been kissed thoroughly.
As the elevator glides upward, I catch a trace of Kellin’s scent…earthy and musky with a dash of sweaty passion. I grip the railing, clamping my eyes shut.
Kellin Jameson is dangerous. I don’t know his ties, and I doubt he understands the depths of mine, but he claims his firm wants to partner with me.
But at what cost? If I give in to Kellin, will I lose control of the hotel? Of myself?
Will I even care?
I’m not sure anymore.
The elevator slides open on the sixth floor, and I hesitate, listening before I venture out into the corridor. I check each corner before I proceed toward my suite. My hand’s in my pocket, fisted around the pepper spray I wish I’d kept closer earlier.
My father’s men drift in and out of the halls like ghosts, and I’d prefer to avoid another run-in with Shout.
No voices. No footsteps. All clear.
I enter my room, bolt the door behind me, and exhale.
My wrist still tingles. My lips still burn.
My mind still plays the velvet-laced gravel of Kellin’s voice—of the real man behind the mask—deep and sure and slightly frayed at the edges.
I should be furious. Or upset. I should be calling someone—anyone—to talk me through this.
Instead, I sag back against the door.
I can still feel his mouth, his breath, his intensity. I wonder which part of him to trust, the man who saysnot yetor the one who seizes what he wants until the world interrupts.
Both, maybe. And that’s the issue.
Despite his easy charm, the hints of darkness peeking beneath the surface remind me a little too much of the assholes populating my father’s world.
Men who consume rather than love.
For once, I’m starting to think I wouldn’t mind being consumed if it means burning down all that my father built and rising, reborn, from the ashes.
Unfortunately, the flames could just as easily destroy me.
A conundrum for another day. For tonight, I check the hallway one last time, double-lock the door, and let the ghost of Kellin’s touch haunt me in my bed as I tumble into a restless sleep.
Chapter 13
