4. Chapter 4
I’m in the middle of my climax, crying out with pleasure, when my ears pop. My eyes fly open, and I see the sexy stranger standing over me. Watching me. The expression on his face is lust personified, and my inner walls involuntarily contract, sending me crashing over the precipice once again.
I’m still coming when he yanks the shower rod down like a Neanderthal and climbs into the tub with me. When he lowers his body over mine, wrapping his enormous hands around my waist and clutching me to his chest, I’m still shaking with the aftershocks of my orgasm.
Is this a dream? It has to be, right? I’m a jumbled mess of confusion, desire, and terror. Beneath the strong stranger and wrapped in the shower curtain, I can’t see anything. I feel the man’s mouth move against my ear. Is he trying to tell me something? Panic floods my system as I realize that it’s not just the man’s words that I can’t hear. The music is gone, too. I scream, and I can’t hear that, either.
Then I realize that my hearing is fine. The howling wind is drowning out all other noises.
It’s a tornado. A shiver rolls down my spine. Cressida was right. Is this how I’ll die? I warp my arms around the man, clutching him tightly against my naked body, somehow knowing, deep in my soul, that he doesn’t wish me harm. He’s here to protect me.
After what feels like hours but is probably no more than a minute, the roaring stops as quickly as it began. Silence falls over us, except for a buzzing sound that I can’t immediately place. With horror, I realize that it’s the vibrator. It’s shifted and is now resting between my hip and the stranger’s leg. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I reach down to turn it off. Now the room is silent, except for the beating of our hearts and our mingled breath. He shifts his weight slightly, making the water in the bathtub slosh, but he doesn’t move away from me.
And I don’t mind.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“I think so.”
“What’s your name?”
“Petra.”
“I’m Colby.”
“Um, hi?”
“Hi,” he says, chuckling softly. “I’m going to move the curtain now, Petra. Some dust and debris may fall on us, so shield your eyes, okay?”
“O-okay,” I stammer, raising my hands to cover my face.
He throws off the curtain and I squint against the sunlight flooding the bathroom. For a moment, I’m disoriented and confused. This room doesn’t have any windows. Looking up, I see that a chunk of the ceiling and roof are missing, allowing the light to spill inside.
Colby stands up and looks down at me. I slowly pull my knees to my chest, trying to cover my nakedness while I regain my bearings. The bathroom looks completely different. The floor is littered with ceiling tiles, pink insulation, and drywall. Water is spraying into the bathroom from a broken pipe where the toilet used to be, and the mist creates a miniature rainbow.
“You don’t see that every day,” I murmur.
“You sure don’t,” Colby says. His eyes bore into mine, and I don’t think he’s talking about the rainbow.
He clears his throat and pulls his gaze from mine. “I think you’d better stay here while I check out the rest of the house. If your shoes and clothes are still where they’re supposed to be, where would I find them?”
“The bedroom,” I say slowly. “First door on the right. I had clothes in a suitcase on the bed. Shoes would be on a rack inside the closet.”
He carefully steps out of the bathtub and onto the debris-covered floor. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he leaves, I pull the drain to the tub. Standing, I reach for my towel. It’s no longer there—nor is the wall. It’s a good thing I was in the bathtub, I realize, glancing around the ruined room. And if Colby hadn’t been here to shield my body, I’d have been hammered with falling debris. Would I have survived?
Probably not without injuries. Thank God he was here… but why was he here?
I pick up the shower curtain, using it to towel off as best as possible before wrapping it around myself like a toga. I sit on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for the mysterious stranger to return. He looks vaguely familiar, and I wonder if we’ve met before. Is he also from Mercury Ridge? Have I been so obsessed with Marcus over the years that I completely overlooked this man?
After a few minutes, he returns holding a pair of mismatched shoes. One is a black sneaker, and the other is a lavender sandal. “This was the best I could do,” he says apologetically. “There are lots of men’s shoes scattered about, but these were the only women’s shoes I found.
I smile at him. “At least they’re both flats. It would have been awkward hobbling along in one heel and one sneaker.”
His face breaks into a grin, lighting up his entire face. Whoa. I need to make him do that again—and often.
He kneels, patting his knee with a hand. “I’ll help you put them on.”
I raise my left foot and he slides on the sneaker, tying the laces with care. Then he fastens the sandal to the other foot. “I couldn’t find your clothes. The suitcase was nowhere to be found.”
“I already moved most of my clothes to my apartment. This is my ex-boyfriend’s house,” I explain. “I suppose I’ll just have to wear the shower curtain. They do that at fashion shows all the time, right? Wrap a woman in garbage and call it haute couture.”
He barks a laugh. “True enough. I live in Los Angeles and am constantly confused by what constitutes fashion.”
“Los Angeles?” And suddenly, I realize who he is. I suck in a quick breath, temporarily starstruck. “You’re Colby Raynes!”
He smiles kindly. “That’s me.”
“I didn’t recognize you because…” My voice trails off.
He raises an eyebrow. “Because?”
I swallow nervously. “Well, for one thing, I’d never expected to see you in North Carolina. You live on the West Coast. And for another, you don’t seem, well, grumpy.”
He laughs. “I’m only grumpy in California.”