Page 68 of The Savior

If only he’d had more time with Westin and Black. Liam was certain that they would see the situation from his side and would assist in detailed planning with firepower.

He flicked a pencil and watched it roll over the papers. Then he glanced at her.

Chelsea pulled a band off her wrist and knotted her hair into a messy bun. Strands fell loose, but she didn’t touch them. Maybe she didn’t notice. But he had.

It’d been hours since they first started working. While they were busy, his mind didn’t wander. Now that they were finished…? His mind was on a roll. He pushed his chair to balance on its back legs.

Thunder clapped again, and Chelsea startled. The earlier storm had been all bluster with only a few raindrops.

Now, another boom vibrated the condo, promising far more intensity than the earlier sprinkle. Just as soon as the thunder hit, thick splats of water pelted the windows.

Liam eased his chair onto the front legs. Lightning lit the darkening sky. The overhead lights flickered and turned off.

A shiver rolled down his back. He always enjoyed power outages and couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was the silence, shadows, and stillness that came with hiding in the dark.

“Guess this one is for real.” Chelsea pushed from the table and left the room.

She returned with a small plastic tub, set it on the table, and extracted a bag of small candles. “If I go through the fuss of lighting a few candles, the lights will turn back on like magic.”

He laughed. “Is that so?”

“It’s a proven fact.” Chelsea struck a match and lit two small candles then shuffled their paperwork into a pile. She gathered it in her arm and handed him the matchbook. “Maybe we need a couple more lit. There are some by the couch.”

His eyes were adjusting well in the dark, and Liam watched her store their plan in a kitchen cabinet that held a small, paper-sized safe. He chuckled quietly. So the unexpected did exist behind cabinet doors in her kitchen. But a safe wasn’t likely to do anything for his arousal like imagining Chelsea’s orgasm.

She returned to the living room as he struck a match and lit two candles in glass jars. They cast a warm, waving light. Chelsea eased by, taking the lit candles, and placed one on a side table and the other on the coffee table.

Lemons and lavender hung in the air.

“The quiet’s my favorite part,” he said. Gone were the hum of the circulating HVAC unit, the slow spin of a fan, and the gentle sound of the refrigerator. Their movements were the only thing that could be heard.

They stood by the coffee table, and she didn’t say anything. The small candles barely lit the room, and with each second of quiet, pressure tightened in his chest.

Liam licked his lips. His breaths slowed, and he couldn’t ignore the wonder and hunger—but he had to.

How he reacted toward her, with her, because of her… he needed to leave. He gestured toward the door. “I’ll head out.”

She gave a quiet “Oh” marred by a slip of disappointment.

Shit, that wasn’t what he needed to hear.How about a high five? A kick in the ass?Anything that would show his interest was one-sided. He didn’t want to go.Thatwas the problem.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Not at all. He stepped closer. Her beautiful eyes watched warily. They couldn’t do this. Because of the past. Because they had a job to do. Those were catastrophic problems.

Touching Chelsea would change everything.

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