Page 9 of The First Spark

A frown creases her brow, but she remains rooted to the spot. “Wouldn’t you rather knock it out from under me and finish the job?”

I swear to God, this woman is jumping on my last nerve.

“Sure, which explains why I’m holding it right now. Look, I’ve got places to be, so if you’d hurry and get your ass down here, I’d appreciate it.”

But she doesn’t move. Oriana’s expression wavers between fear and frustration, no doubt weighing her options: a fall on her head from eight feet in the air or allowing me, the detestable inked hoodlum, to function as her knight in shining armor.

“I’m going to count to three, and then you’re on your own. One, two?—”

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her foot searching out the rung below her. “I’m terrified of heights.”

“Then why are you on the ladder?”

Some women make no sense.

“Good question,” she whispers, another whimper escaping her throat when her foot slips.

Enough of this nonsense.

I shrug off my jacket and hand it to Lydia before climbing the six rungs to reach Oriana, all the while praying the damn ladder holds us both.

A trip to the emergency department with this woman is not on my agenda for the evening.

“What are you doing?” Oriana asks, shooting me a confused look over one shoulder.

“Getting you down. Turn around.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Release your right hand and grab my arm. Then turn yourself slowly and hold on to me.”

Oriana hesitates, and I wonder if she’s prepping for another argument. Instead, she releases a deep sigh and abides my request, her hands gripping the fabric of my shirt in a stranglehold.

“Now, wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. I’ll do the hard work. You just hold on to me.”

“You promise you won’t drop me?”

Maybe it’s the blatant fear in her face or the timidity in her voice. For the first time, I see the human side of Oriana Thorne.

“Hey,” I murmur in a voice normally reserved for the bedroom. “I would never drop you. Believe that.”

She peeks at the ground and releases another whimper before wrapping herself around me.

I slide my hand under her ass to hold her steady and take a careful step down. So far, so good.

But when Oriana buries her face in my neck, my entire world shifts on its axis.

My mind blanks as her scent assails my nostrils.

I don’t know what the hell she’s wearing, but it’s intoxicating. Warm and sweet, with an undercurrent of sandalwood and jasmine, all mixing to wreak havoc on my senses.

Or maybe it’s just her. The woman smells like heaven, and I fight the urge to drag my tongue along her ivory skin. Does she taste this delicious, too?

My blood pounds in my ears, but I can’t wrap my head around any thought but her. I’m hyperaware of every inchof Oriana’s form pressed to mine, and how damngoodshe feels in my arms.

Fuck Ash, get it together.

“Are you two okay up there? Do I need to grab one of the guys next door?” Lydia’s voice breaks into the moment and I shake my head to clear it.

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