Page 31 of Crude Heir

Flipping on the light, I catch sight of myself in the mirror and wince. My lipstick’s gone, my eyeliner is smeared, and my hair is disheveled after being tossed around in the wind. I press my eyes tightly shut as I close the door. I’ve been a mess this entire time in front of the hottest guy in the company. The girls at the office can never know this happened. I’d never live it down.

Pushing the thought aside, I set the clothes on the countertop, then turn on the shower, letting the water run until it’s hot and steamy.

Derrick’s been staying here several weeks but the only thing visible is the toothbrush sitting in a dark travel case. There’s not a single personal item around, even in the bedroom.

Of course, this is a corporate apartment set up much like a hotel suite. The cleaning service comes through every other day while the apartment is occupied. They stock food as requested and provide fresh linens and towels.

Employees reserve it when they come into the city, with priority going to anyone who has an extended stay. I’ve processed the invoices. Even with the cost of the lease and maintenance, it’s still less expensive than having rooms at the hotel.

Stripping down, I adjust the temperature and step under the warm spray. When he suggested coming here…okay, maybe suggested is too strong a word. But when he said it, everything in me screamed it’s a terrible idea. Yet my pulse skittered.

His reaction was telling. Despite the lapse in restraint earlier, he clearly seems to regret it. And frankly, I’m not sure I’m readyto hear why. I’m keenly aware he’s on a different level. I rinse the shampoo out of my hair, letting the nerves and anticipation twisting together inside me drain away.

I turn off the water and reach for a big fluffy towel. Drying off a bit, I step out onto the plush bathmat. Wow, this thing is thicker than the walls of my apartment. I run the towel over my head, careful to keep from ruffling my hair too much since I don’t have a brush. Finger combing curly hair will only get you so far.

Putting the towel down, I unfold the rust-colored T-shirt Derrick provided. Holding it from the shoulders, I drape it against me. It goes all the way down to just above my knees. I grin to myself. This is longer than the nightshirts I have at home.

With that thought, I pull the shirt over my head. The soft material slides over my body just as thunder rumbles overhead. But when the neckline goes past my head, I open my eyes to find everything around me is pitch-black. I blink, making sure my eyes are open.

There’s no air. The temperature rises, heat coming up my chest and face until I can barely take a breath. I press my eyes closed, but it only gets worse. Half circles radiate behind my eyelids. The walls close in, the pressure mounting over my shoulders and head. My ears buzz, the sound tearing through my head.

The door.Where’s the way out?

Pounding on the wall cuts in over the sounds of my heart. “Nicole?” Derrick’s voice comes from somewhere nearby.

I force my eyes open, turning my head this way and that. There’s nothing around me. My scream is stuck in my throat, my breathing echoing in my ears.

“I’m coming in.” A light shines from beside me, breaking through the darkness, forming some kind of halo around Derrick.

My legs go weak at the sight of him. The beam points away but it’s enough to loosen the band on my senses. His arms encircle me and I press myself against him, grateful for the solid chest that’s offering support.

He lifts me off my feet. “I’ve got you.” The door slams, hitting the wall then we’re moving into the other room. I swallow, staring toward the window and the muted light coming in from outside.

He sets me down across his legs. I’m clutching him, as hard as my arms will allow. “I’m okay,” I whisper against his shirt. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“You’re safe. Look.” He brings the light back, shining it in my direction. I reach for his phone, my clumsy fingers brushing his.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to whisper. “I…”should have taken my phone with me.Why didn’t I think of that? Foolish. Knowing the weather was still going. I let myself embrace the sense of security.

His arm tightens around me, keeping me close, murmuring assurances against my temple. Once I get enough strength back that it doesn’t feel like my shoulders are going to fall off, I straighten my back.

“I should have—”

“You’re fine,” he assures me, tightening his hold.

Meanwhile, I’m ready to sink into the ground. “I can get up now.”

“Will you be able to sleep in here,” he goes on, ignoring me, “with the lights out?”

I nod slowly. “Yes. It…” I take a breath. “It’s only small dark places.” His scent fills my nostrils. “When there’s no light.”

“So you’ll be fine without a night-light?” he asks, concerned.

“Yes. The window is enough.” He looks over at the heavy curtains, open about two feet.

“Let’s put you to bed.” Before I can move, he picks me up, going around to the side, then sets me down where the sheet is pulled back. Likely where he slept last night.

Exhausted, I let him tuck me in like I’m a child. “Thank you.”

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