Adam’s feet crunched on the gravel as he walked around to her side of the car. He looked at her funny as he placed a hand on her elbow, guiding her toward the front entrance.
They swept in through grand double doors, their footsteps echoing throughout the spacious rooms. Cool white marble floors, sleek black-and-purple furniture and vast, expensive-looking modern paintings filled the space. She hated it. It gave her the heebie-jeebies. There was no way she was staying here. No way in hell. Not even overnight.
She followed Adam down two sets of stairs that terminated in a concrete, colorless basement area. They easily bypassed all the codes and locks now wide open due to the power outage in this area.
Adam put his hand on the handle of a thick steel door. “Okay—” he grinned at her with a dazzling smile, “—here’s the money shot. Time to see if the rumors were true.”
What was he talking about? Oh shit, maybe she should have listened earlier.
The heavy door slid open and cold air brushed against her face. It smelled canned, almost musty. What the hell? She blinked, her eyes adjusted and her icy heart stuttered back to life. Fear gripped her and shook her awake.
Adam laughed, clearly delighted by what he saw. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. “Come on, let’s check this out.”
He flicked on the large flashlight he was carrying and swept the dim room with the beam, exposing a sickening collection of warfare—row after row, floor to ceiling, an endless display of big, explosive things, small deadly things and every weapon imaginable. A cavernous cache big enough to support a bloody coup, or the entire Russian mob.
No, no, no!
“Wh…what is this?” She yanked out of his grasp and stepped back, her butt connecting with the doorjamb. Hands shaking, palms sweating, stomach churning, she literally wanted to vomit again just looking at all those guns. Yesterday, she’d had the courage to put one gun in her hand, have one gun in her lap and next to her while sitting in the Lexus, but here she was surrounded by them, smothered by a mountain of guns. All of them looking at her accusingly. All of them reminding her of her failures.
“Holy shit,” Adam said reverently. “We’ve hit the jackpot.”
Rachel’s blood boiled and her mouth came back online. Fast. “I didn’t know this was here…I…I can’t do this. Adam, I can’t…” She sucked in rapid breaths, in and out, as frightening images from her childhood flashed through her mind.
Omigod. Omigod.
He turned to look at her, surprise etched on his face. “What are you—”
“I have to get out of here,” she blurted out. “I can’t stay. You don’t need me. So…so, I’ll wait in the car.” And she fled before he could respond, running away with her heart in her throat.
Her feet tapped up the stairs. She sprinted across the mansion and ran back to the Hummer. Breath ragged, hands trembling, she opened the passenger door, threw herself in and curled into a protective ball. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she relived her childhood shame.
He was going to find out, there was no way she could hide it anymore. Now he’d know everything. Know what a loser she really was. Rachel closed her eyes and swallowed hard.
Shit.
Adam marched back to the Hummer, pissed as hell. He wanted to stay and pick apart the weapon cache he’d found—make sure they were armed and dangerous and ready for any fuckers who might come their way—but Rachel had run off without so much as a can of pepper spray to keep her safe.
Downstairs, he’d found a stockpile of weapons that rivaled King Tut’s tomb in both size and complexity, and instead of carefully cataloguing this amazing find, he was stuck running after a girl.
He wanted to spank her goddamn ass.
“Rachel!” he roared. He threw three loaded duffle bags on the ground and jerked open the back of the Hummer.
She twisted in the front seat and tagged him with bright blue eyes, opened
They swept in through grand double doors, their footsteps echoing throughout the spacious rooms. Cool white marble floors, sleek black-and-purple furniture and vast, expensive-looking modern paintings filled the space. She hated it. It gave her the heebie-jeebies. There was no way she was staying here. No way in hell. Not even overnight.
She followed Adam down two sets of stairs that terminated in a concrete, colorless basement area. They easily bypassed all the codes and locks now wide open due to the power outage in this area.
Adam put his hand on the handle of a thick steel door. “Okay—” he grinned at her with a dazzling smile, “—here’s the money shot. Time to see if the rumors were true.”
What was he talking about? Oh shit, maybe she should have listened earlier.
The heavy door slid open and cold air brushed against her face. It smelled canned, almost musty. What the hell? She blinked, her eyes adjusted and her icy heart stuttered back to life. Fear gripped her and shook her awake.
Adam laughed, clearly delighted by what he saw. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. “Come on, let’s check this out.”
He flicked on the large flashlight he was carrying and swept the dim room with the beam, exposing a sickening collection of warfare—row after row, floor to ceiling, an endless display of big, explosive things, small deadly things and every weapon imaginable. A cavernous cache big enough to support a bloody coup, or the entire Russian mob.
No, no, no!
“Wh…what is this?” She yanked out of his grasp and stepped back, her butt connecting with the doorjamb. Hands shaking, palms sweating, stomach churning, she literally wanted to vomit again just looking at all those guns. Yesterday, she’d had the courage to put one gun in her hand, have one gun in her lap and next to her while sitting in the Lexus, but here she was surrounded by them, smothered by a mountain of guns. All of them looking at her accusingly. All of them reminding her of her failures.
“Holy shit,” Adam said reverently. “We’ve hit the jackpot.”
Rachel’s blood boiled and her mouth came back online. Fast. “I didn’t know this was here…I…I can’t do this. Adam, I can’t…” She sucked in rapid breaths, in and out, as frightening images from her childhood flashed through her mind.
Omigod. Omigod.
He turned to look at her, surprise etched on his face. “What are you—”
“I have to get out of here,” she blurted out. “I can’t stay. You don’t need me. So…so, I’ll wait in the car.” And she fled before he could respond, running away with her heart in her throat.
Her feet tapped up the stairs. She sprinted across the mansion and ran back to the Hummer. Breath ragged, hands trembling, she opened the passenger door, threw herself in and curled into a protective ball. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she relived her childhood shame.
He was going to find out, there was no way she could hide it anymore. Now he’d know everything. Know what a loser she really was. Rachel closed her eyes and swallowed hard.
Shit.
Adam marched back to the Hummer, pissed as hell. He wanted to stay and pick apart the weapon cache he’d found—make sure they were armed and dangerous and ready for any fuckers who might come their way—but Rachel had run off without so much as a can of pepper spray to keep her safe.
Downstairs, he’d found a stockpile of weapons that rivaled King Tut’s tomb in both size and complexity, and instead of carefully cataloguing this amazing find, he was stuck running after a girl.
He wanted to spank her goddamn ass.
“Rachel!” he roared. He threw three loaded duffle bags on the ground and jerked open the back of the Hummer.
She twisted in the front seat and tagged him with bright blue eyes, opened
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