Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“I’m fine,” I bit out.
His eyes were wide with concern and the vestiges of fear. “You were asleep in the bath. I read an article about this once. It’s incredibly dangerous.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I was… meditating.”
He paused. “Meditating.”
“Yes. With my eyes closed.” I lifted my chin and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
Landry narrowed his eyes. “Is drooling while meditating an advanced technique you learned at your retreat?” He lifted one eyebrow in challenge and reached out a thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got a little something right here.”
A shiver ran through me that made goose bumps prickle over my skin at the lingering touch.
From the chill of the room, I told myself.
Landry turned to grab a thick bathrobe from a hook on the wall, whipping it around me and pulling it together in the front. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine.”
“You almost drowned,” he growled.
“I’m fine.”
His eyes flicked up to mine. “Careful. You sound like Zane.”
I clenched my back teeth until my jaw ached.
“Did you call your grandmother?” he asked in a softer voice.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His hands were still on the lapels of my bathrobe. From this distance, I could smell the familiar hand lotion he used. I could see the small red spot next to his nose that was usually covered meticulously with concealer. And I could see the darker roots beneath his famous blond locks.
I tried not to remember all the times I’d run my fingers through his long hair. The times I’d gripped and tugged it during sex and the softer times I’d caressed him when he was safely asleep and not able to misinterpret the gesture as anything other than… a moment of weakness.
We stood awkwardly before he cleared his throat and patted the robe’s lapels. “Right. Okay.” He stepped back. “I’ll let you…” He exhaled and turned to go.
I almost called him back. Almost called out… something that would soften the tension between us. But I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t trust myself not to temporarily “forgive” him just to get the benefit of his comfort.
That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
As I stood there staring at the empty doorway, it suddenly occurred to me I’d meant what I’d said to my grandmother. I missed my job. My job was something I was good at. It grounded me and made me feel competent and capable. So what the hell was I doing wallowing in a bath when there was work I could be doing?
I had to wait until morning before I could take the Brotherhood’s plane home, but I could work from my phone now that it was fully charged. I propped myself up on pillows and opened my inbox.
But the soft bed and my heavy eyelids conspired against me. I only managed to return one email before the phone fell on my face and shoulder. My eyes slid closed as I sighed in frustration.
And then it was morning.
The sun shone more brightly than I expected… until I realized it was well after 9:00 a.m. and I’d slept longer than I’d meant to. I quickly texted the flight crew to let them know I was on my way and that I’d update them as soon as I had an ETA from my rideshare app.
After throwing on the clothes Landry had left for me last night, I slid my phone and passport into a pocket and tidied up the room as well as I could. By some miracle, I found my way back to the main-level foyer, only to discover the front door was locked with a set of antique fittings I couldn’t figure out, and the elevator had a numeric keypad instead of a simple button.
In hopes of searching out a back door or someone who could release me, I followed the sounds of talking deeper into the house until I found a narrow hallway that led to a large, open kitchen where an older gentleman sat at a table reading an honest-to-god newspaper. A slightly younger woman looked up from where she was working on a laptop and smiled at me. “Oh hello, you must be Kenji.”
I nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry to intrude. But—”
“Nonsense,” she said, standing and waving me forward. “Please make yourself right at home. I’m Nan, and this is Edward. Ed, this is Everett’s friend Kenji.”
No one had to explain that this man was Landry’s father. Not when he had eyes that were a slightly watered-down version of Landry’s aquamarine. It was strange to see Landry’s eyes in another man’s face but even stranger to realize that this man, Landry’s father, had been here all along. Right here in central London, all these years. I’d been in town countless times with Silas and Bash on business or with Zane and Landry for a concert or appearance, yet Landry had never once mentioned his family or brought us here.