Page 7 of Snowed in with the Brutes
I will need to remain here for the next three days, when a helicopter will be sent to pick me up.Food won't be a problem; there's enough in this cabin to feed me for a year or more.I’ll have to figure out a way to make the thermostat work or start a fire.I’m sheltered, surrounded by luxury if nothing else, so I could easily wait this out.
I decide to give them one more hour.I lie down on the bed and close my eyes.With zero sleep the night before and an empty stomach, I’m sound asleep before I can finish my last thought.
Chapter Five
––––––––
Cora
––––––––
Ijolt awake.For amoment, everything around me is dark and unnerving.I’m disoriented, but as my heart pounds, reality slips into my consciousness, and I recognize exactly where I am and why I’m here.
My skin pulls tight, and my stomach knots.I sense them before I see them, their presence ominous and overwhelming, strangling the breath from my throat.My imagination is not playing tricks on me.
My gaze falls on three shadows.My eyes widen as the room becomes clearer under the gray light of the storm outside, and I take in the sight of them.
Oh god, this is really happening.
They’re here.In this room.With me.How long have they been watching me sleep?How did I not hear them come in?I shake my head at my foolish questions.They’re mafia kings, silent killers; they move like predators in designer suits.
Fear takes on a new form as I force myself to roll out of bed; my bulky clothes make the motion anything but elegant.
I open my mouth to say something, but all my faculties abandon me except for my sight.All I see is them.
Three men, well over six feet four, their suits tailored for lean bodies, ripped with undeniable muscle underneath.My throat dries, and my eyes lower from their substantially wide shoulders and broad chests down to their fully muscular thighs and then to their shiny black shoes.
A light is switched on, illuminating everything about them.
They’ll never know that sometimes, before I fall asleep, I see their images in my mind.I have no idea why I was fascinated with them.They’re bad men, but that didn’t stop me.
With his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and his dark, wavy hair brushed back and glinting under the fluorescent light, Flinn Calloway is a sight to behold.He seems deceptively easy to approach, but beneath his calm demeanor lies a man trained to be a mafia king.
A new kind of quivering works its way through me as his deep brown eyes roam over me, from my face peeking out of the hoodie to my trembling lips.He lowers his gaze to my hands, clenched so tightly at my sides they might never uncurl.
There’s nothing lazy about his focus on me.He’s studying me with casual ease and curiosity, wordlessly unearthing me and making me feel naked under his gaze.As he looks down at my sock-covered feet, all I see is the thickness of his eyelashes casting shadows across his sculpted cheeks.His structured jaw is set in thought as he works his way back up to my face.
