Page 17 of Prince of Storms
“That’s fine. I would prefer you take your time when working around so many books. Unfortunately, they haven’t been cared for as they deserved,” he said, an undercurrent of anger tinging his voice. “I hope to change that.”
“Good,” I said. “Books deserve to be cherished. Especially ones like this.” I noted all the leather hardcovers, many with gold foil along the spines. Just beautiful.
“Now, come,” he said, gesturing me out through the far side of the library and into a hallway on the other side.
I followed, realizing we were back near where we’d started our tour.
“These doors,” he said, pointing at a set of rather ornately carved arched doors between one of the kitchens and one of the bedrooms.
“Yes? What’s in there?”
“This is private,” he said. “You do not go in here. Am I understood? It isoff limits.”
The doors, stained darker than the others and full of far more carvings, were easily discernable. Maybe this was the master bedroom, given the nicer look to the entrance. Even the frame of the arch had been carved beautifully.
“Yeah, I understand,” I said, doing my best to tamp my curiosity into nothingness.
Twelve thousand dollars. Remember that. You already told your dad you’re getting the car. So don’t fuck it up by snooping, got it?!
“Good,” he said, breaking out into a brilliant smile that sent lightning through my veins.
My knees slightly wobbled as he straightened his spine, his black button-up pulling tight across his chest. Did the man even understand how much of an effect he had on me? There was no furniture in the bedrooms, but I didn’t give a damn at that instant. He could fuck me up against the window for all I cared.
“Just, um, just show me where the supplies are,” I said, desperately trying to focus on anything but the swell of his pecs or how his pants pulled tight over his crotch when he moved.
I’d been so focused on the house that I’d managed not to focus on Tor too much, but that had changed instantly. The mancommandedmy attention when he wanted to, and I couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.
I supposed I could let him have his way with me, assuming he was interested. Maybe after I’d been laid, my hormones would rest easier. Somehow, I doubted it, though. He just had an aura about him that I found almost irresistible.
“Supplies?” Tor questioned.
“Yeah, you know, for cleaning? Vacuum cleaner, dusting stuff, cleaner, paper towels, mop? All that?”
“You’re the cleaner,” he insisted.
“Yes, I am.”
“Did you not bring that stuff with you?”
“No? Why would I? I’m not a cleaning service. You hired me to come clean. If you needed me to bring my own equipment, you should have said so. But this is going to take a ton of supplies. I couldn’t have fit it all into my car anyway.”
“Well, I don’t have anything,” Tor said matter-of-factly.
“I …” What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I almost started laughing at the ridiculousness of it.
Tordidstart chuckling. “This is why I was going to hire a service. All right, come on, let’s go.”
“Go?”
“If the cleaner won’t bring supplies to the mountain, I’ll bring supplies to the cleaner. Or something like that,” he said. “Come on. We’re going into town.”
“We?” I squeaked.
It was an hour’s drive into town. An hour. Alone. Just Tor and me.
Fuck.
Chapter Eight
