Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
It was late, close to four-thirty in the morning, and I planned to let Layla sleep before we talked. I’d known her long enough to realize she got really, really cranky if she didn’t get enough shut-eye. Though she liked to tell me I growled a lot, she was the one who sounded like a pissed off baby bear if she was tired. I had to admit I found that grumpy scowl of hers sexy as hell.
My cock started to harden as I recalled how she’d looked tonight, how gracious and charming she’d been. Leo and Hannah had done a great job of keeping the wolves at bay, but I’d seen more than one man approach Layla with a gleam in his eye. They’d all been turned back by security, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Leo got a bunch of calls tomorrow asking about Layla. For some men, being denied something only made them want it more.
Unexpected movement in the shadows at the side of her house caught my attention, and I strained to see in the darkness. No streetlights lit her quiet neighborhood, and I couldn’t see the front of the house because of my angle. Large creosote bushes planted all along the outside of her fence also made it hard to know what was going on down there. Grabbing my night vision binoculars, I sought out where I thought I’d seen movement, then cursed.
Someone, probably a large man by his build, snuck around outside of Layla’s house.
A much smaller man—or maybe it was a woman dressed all in black joined him. They both stood there for a moment with their backs to me. I couldn’t even tell if they had hair or not because black masks covered every inch of their heads. They started to turn, and I focused the binoculars in closer, straining to see what they were doing. A brilliant flash of light filled my vision, searing my retinas and painfully blinding me.
I swore as I jerked the binoculars away from my face, the intense burst ruining my vision. As I blinked away tears, I tried to make sense of what my blurry sight showed me. The vivid gleam in the darkness seemed to be getting even brighter as I squinted at it. My mind finally clicked on what I saw as the first scent of smoke reached me on the strong breeze.
Layla’s house was on fire.
My phone rang—probably my security team letting me know that smoke detectors were going off in her home and that there was a fire.
I ignored the call, squinting as I drove down the hill. Rocks banged against the undercarriage as I eased my way down the empty creek bed. The gully wound down the hillside, taking me around boulders bigger than a house. All I could see in my mind’s eye was Layla screaming as she burned…just like Gracie. I felt like I might throw up, but I made myself drive faster, cursing as I hit a big rock that tore something in the suspension. The SUV shuddered, but I kept pushing it, ignoring the various warnings beeping from the dashboard. The smell of the fire dominated the air now, an impure odor filled with the acrid tang of burning plastics and manmade materials. I’ll never forget the smell of a housefire—that chemical stench would always remind me of the reek of the kennels after they’d burned.
The communications system on the Range Rover came to life as Leo shouted, “Mark, stop!”
“Layla’s house is on fire!” I screamed the words so loudly, my vocal cords strained.
“Mark, Layla is here.”
“She’s going to burn.” I wrenched the wheel to the side, trying to get my crippled SUV up the embankment, the damaged engine screaming. “Leo, she’s going to burn!”
“Mark—man, Layla is here, at my house! She’s not at her home. She’s okay. She’s safe.”
I topped the rise, my mind not hearing a word Leo said as I caught sight of her home completely engulfed in flames. “Oh God…Layla! I’m coming!”
“Get her over here! I know she’ll be groggy, but I need her. He’s not listening to me,” Leo roared in the background. “Quick, run.”
I was opening the door to my SUV, searching for a way to enter Layla’s home and save her, when her thick with sleep voice wrapped around my burning insanity like an icy blanket. “What’s going on Leo? What’s wrong? Who is this?”
The sleepy, caressing purr of her voice, even heavy with worry, reached me when nothing else would.
“Layla?”
Something exploded in her studio—probably the propane tank—and my ears rang as the shockwave hit me.
She was saying something, but I couldn’t make it out. “Layla? Is that you? Are you okay?”
The ringing subsided as I got back in my SUV and closed the door, ignoring the steam pouring from the hood as I strained to hear her.