Page 67 of The Candlemaker

And it would be faster to walk than to drive and findparking.At least, that was what I told him.But it wasn’t fast enough to beat the storm.

The whole building seemed to shake when he shut the door, thunder rattling the frame.

“Are we?”

Our eyes met, and then mine slid over him. His shirt plastered to his broad chest. His dress pants molding to muscled thighs. We were both soaked to the bone.

“Hopefully it will pass through quickly,” I offered, and as if Mother Nature wanted to laugh in my face, there was another flash of lightning and an even louder roll of thunder.

I folded my arms and forced my gaze anywhere else in the hall. If it weren’t for the storm, it wouldn’t be so dark in here yet, but the clouds were rapidly blanketing the sky in night.

“I’ll start a fire, if you want to change first.”

A fire sounded good. And so did a dry pair of clothes.

I followed him into the living room and crashed right into the wall of his back when he stopped short.

“Sorry.” I practically jumped back, but his attention was elsewhere. His head whipped in every direction, scanning the room. “What is it?” I stepped beside him, squinting into the darkness when his phone flashlight came on.

Why didn’t he just use one of?—

“The lanterns are gone.”

I stilled, following the source of his light as it roamed every corner of the room. The mattress was as we’d left it. The firewood was still by the hearth. But sure enough, it wasn’t just the batteries and bulbs that had gone missing, but the entirety of the lanterns themselves.

“Stay here. I’m going to check the rest of the floor for them.”

I opened my mouth, but he was already gone.

My heart thudded in time with the thunder as I moveddeeper into the room, using the intermittent bursts of bright light through the windows to find my bag and the candles I’d brought over earlier.Cinnamon.Too bad for Chandler.

The wick puttered to life and light, the familiar warmth instantly settling me. It didn’t matter if the lanterns were missing, we were just going to go to bed anyway, just like we had the last two nights. Still, I found myself walking the perimeter of the room, searching for the missing lanterns.

This wasn’t exactly what I was thinking when I told Nox we needed to take it up a notch.

It didn’t matter, the storm would throw off anything else he had planned, and that would only leave one night left. One night to prove without a doubt the inn was haunted.One night left to sleep beside the man who made me want things I’d never wanted before.

The thunderstorm rioted outside, shaking the windows and quaking the ground. I stopped in front of the window, watching lightning streak electric tears through the sky to the edge of the horizon. It was so consuming, I didn’t hear Chandler come back into the room, let alone come to stand behind me until he spoke.

“Frankie.”

I jumped and spun. My cry of surprise turned into a whimper of pain when the sudden movement sent hot wax spilling from the candle onto my hand, burning me instantly.

“Shit,” I muttered, my brain fritzing between adrenaline, pain, andhim.

“Let me.” Chandler took the candle with one hand and my hand with the other.

“I’m okay—” The words hitched at the end as he lifted my hand closer to his face, a gentle stream of air blowing through his lips to cool the wax.

But that was about the only thing it cooled.

Something hard and hot condensed in his eyes. Seeing the wax on my skin, it did something to him, and it was doing something to me. Something dangerous and exciting and one hundred percent trouble.

“I thought you liked the burn,” he rasped low, his thumb making a slow pass over the lump of cooled wax.

My throat tightened. This wasn’t the kind of burn I’d meant when I’d taunted him days ago…but it was the kind of burn I suddenly wanted to feel.

“I do,” I heard myself mutter, enrapt by the way he was staring.

---