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“Do you need anything?” I ask. I’m not one to miss things but she’s making me feel like I am. It’s irritating.
“Nope. I have some pastries that I brought and I’ll just grab a coffee…” She trails off as she looks around the kitchen. She eyes the cappuccino maker and I watch as she finds the coffee beans and goes about making herself a drink. I want to ask how she knows her way around such a complicated kitchen device, but I refrain. She grabs a bag off the counter and a plate and sets out a tray of cookies and pastries from a bag that I hadn’t even noticed. Spinning around, we come face-to-face. She looks up at me from beneath her thick lashes and something inside me stirs. I fight the sudden urge to take her face in my hands and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.
I frown at that thought. Why would I even think that? Clearing my throat, I take a step back, putting much-needed space between us. I look down at the tray. “Where did those come from?”
“My friend owns the bakery in town. You should try one. They are her specialty,” she explains as she motions to a cookie.
“Maybe later. I have a call,” I state as I stuff a few more bites in my mouth before heading out of the kitchen. I need to put space between us. I should be more irritated than I am with having an unexpected houseguest. I shouldn’t find her intriguing or charming at all. I feel my jaw clenching at my annoyance with myself as I slam my office door and take my seat at my desk. A long morning of conference calls will help clear my head and put my mind back on my work, where it should be.
CHAPTERSIX
Isa
So much for Elisha’s cookies wooing my host. I grab an oatmeal raisin and take a bite as I lean on the counter. Felipe comes over and nuzzles my elbow.
“Hey, buddy,” I mutter absentmindedly as I stroke his head with my free hand. I finish the cookie and my cappuccino. I clean up but leave the tray of cookies on the counter. Maybe Mr. Grumpykins will change his mind later.
His behavior is giving me whiplash. First, he was a total dick. Then, he turned into some overprotective weirdo. Then, well, he saw me naked…that was embarrassing. But shit, the way his eyes darkened as he took me in all while wearing nothing but gym shorts was hot as fuck. Then, he was all cold again. But the way he spoke to Felipe…does he have some soft side to him? Or maybe he’s one of those stereotypical rich people who only show affection to dogs and horses? And now, he’s holed up in that office of his.
I check the time on my phone and notice that I have zero bars. I frown. Hopefully, it’s just the storm and I’ll get them back later. Sighing, I turn to Felipe.
“I guess it’s just you and me. Let’s go explore this place,” I state as I walk into the hallway. Adam had pointed out a few rooms last night, but I don’t really remember them. Didn’t he motion toward the library? I try to retrace our steps. After getting lost three times, I find a long hallway in the back of the house…or at least I think it’s the back of the house, between the blinding snow falling outside and my disorientation inside this maze of opulence, I’m not totally sure.
I’m greeted at the end of the hall by double doors that are easily fifteen feet high. They look old, much older than the house. I run my hands over the intricate carvings on the doors.
“Shall we?” I ask Felipe. He wags his tail.
I push on one of the doors and gasp as it opens. I don’t move, aside from reaching to my right where I see light switches. I turn them on one by one and I just stare. I’m in the library. It’s the most beautiful library I’ve ever seen in person. It’s three stories tall. There’s a mural painted on the ceiling. Dark mahogany wood shelves line every wall. There are at least seven of those sliding ladders against brass railings that run along the top of the bookshelves. A section of the shelves on the second floor has glass-front doors. Two of them look to have locks. I momentarily ponder if the books I so desperately need are inside. There are beautiful green-glass lamps throughout the space, but the shelves also are backlit and appear to have lights embedded into the tops of them so that you can easily read the spines of the books. Several spaces in between shelves have giant paintings hanging from them with special lighting overhead. One of them looks like a family painting of Adam with his parents. I examine it. He appears to be a teenager, but those blue eyes are still the same. They are his mother’s eyes. But his hair is most definitely the same color as his father’s. In addition to the one family painting, there are several of cardinals. I wonder why as I look at each one.
My gaze travels from the paintings to the three windows running the height of the room on the back wall. Some of the windowpanes are made of stained glass and the light from the snowstorm leaves colorful patterns on the floor.
The floor is a checkered marble pattern, but instead of marble, it’s dark and light wood, giving it a cozy feeling. To the far end of the room, there is an alcove that is only one story high. There are two desks and four oversized chairs with ottomans. Against the wall where I entered is a fireplace with two more chairs and a sofa in front of it along with a coffee table that has newspapers and magazines on it. The few areas of the wall without wood shelves are painted a greenish blue that complements the light fixtures or maybe the light fixtures complement the walls? I’m definitely no interior designer.
I see a phone tucked into one of the alcove desks. I frown and wonder if it works. Maybe I can call my parents from it.
I walk over and pick up the receiver. There is only static on the other end. I haven’t used a phone this old in a long time. I press the button where the handset sits and release it, but still no dial tone. I hang up and walk back to the door. Perhaps the phone or computer in Adam’s office works. I could call or email from there. I go to open the door when suddenly it’s pushed toward me.
I yelp and sway backward as I lose my footing. I reach out behind me hoping to break my fall, but I’m suddenly stopped. My eyes look up and focus on a worried face staring down at me. Adam.
“Are you OK?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. His hands are gripping my waist. I blush under his scrutiny.
“Yes. Thank you. I…you surprised me,” I stammer as he helps me to stand. His hands remain on my waist for a moment longer than they need to, but oddly I miss his touch when he releases me. We’re so close. I can feel his breath against my forehead and smell his cologne. He hadn’t been wearing that for his workout this morning. As if sensing our unusual proximity, he slowly steps back, giving me space.
I look into his eyes wondering why he’s here. I don’t have to wait long for my answer.
“The phone lines aren’t working and my Wi-Fi is down,” he explains.
I purse my lips as I consider what he’s said. I guess I’m not calling anyone.
I hold up my phone and show him that I have no reception.
He nods. “Me either. Sometimes when it’s storming the nearest tower doesn’t work. Hopefully, it’s just the storm and it doesn’t need repairs. As for my phones, they should be up and running unless…” He pauses as if a new thought has interrupted him. He doesn’t continue but walks across the large room and peers out one of the enormous windows.
A loud sigh echoes in the otherwise silent space. “Well, that’s fucking fantastic,” he groans.
I take large strides as I cross the room to stand next to him. Through the near-whiteout conditions, I can just barely make out a tree that’s been uprooted not far from the house-slash-billionaire-lair, and with it, I can just barely see some black lines poking in and around the roots.
“I’m guessing that those cables are for your phone and Wi-Fi?” I ask.
