Shadows of the Past Read Free Page A

he’s done, he takes my hand in his and lifts it to his lips. The warm pressure of his kiss on the back of my hand ignites an explosion in my stomach. The result is a breathy gasp that turns my face red.
    He glances up at me from under his dark lashes. “If a caress is that powerful, I can’t help but wonder what the rest will be like.”
    I’m lost in his gaze, drowning in twin pools of blue. I smile hesitantly, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. Shyness is sucking me into its clutches, but I’m fighting it. There’s something about this guy that is so intense, something from deep within that’s calling me to him so I can’t pull away. When he touches me, it's like my mind gets fried. Rational thoughts become hazy, and I feel how lonely I am and how much I want him to hold me. My eyes fixate on his lips, wanting to taste his kiss and feel the exquisite pressure of his touch.
    It’s as if he can read my mind. He reaches for me and gives me a soft kiss, gently brushing his lips over mine. It’s light, like his touch, but it leaves me breathless and wanting more. I shudder, gasping, when he pulls away. The car stops, and I look out the window.  
    “What are we doing here?”
    His car door is suddenly opened, “This is where I’m staying. Come up with me? I want to find out what makes you smile, American Girl.”
    I can’t help it, I grin. Putting my hand in his, I slip out the car. We’re at one of the insanely expensive Victorian-styled buildings. I’ve always looked through the windows of this building on my way to work. It’s a beautiful combination of modern and ancient, melded together into breathtaking splendor.
    “You live here?”  
    He nods and looks at his feet for half a second. “For now, yes.” When he looks up, our eyes catch, and I know there’s a painful story beneath his beautiful eyes. I can still feel the sting of betrayal and a memory that wants to wither away into dust, but it can’t.
    I understand him all too well.  
    A doorman in a top hat and tails pulls open a massive door for us. We pass through and head toward the lift. It has a lavish gate that closes on both sides of the shaft. He presses the button for the penthouse and then glances at me. “I’m not trying to impress you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” For a moment, he seems unsure.
    It’s endearing. I step toward him and press my body into his, taking his tie in my hands as I do so. “That’s not what I’m thinking about at all.”
    His voice catches in his throat. “What are you thinking about, then?”
    I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. There’s something about him, and once we’re touching, it’s like two drops of water—the pull toward him is consuming me.  
    My gaze remains locked on his lips until the elevator dings. He looks away and pushes the gate open. When he steps out, he offers his hand. “Follow me.”
    We walk down the hallway and stop at a set of double doors. He takes out his room key and touches it to the lock. The light flashes green, and we push inside.  
    “Oh, my God.”  
    I stop in the foyer. Yeah, it’s got a freaking foyer with walls that stretch up forever. Gold gilding, mirrors, moldings, and a massive bed make up the space in front of me. To the right, there’s a white marble bathroom with black accents and the biggest soaking tub I’ve ever seen. I blink at the chandeliers—they’re glittering from the bathroom and above the bed.
    I walk inside a little bit more and stare at the huge bed. It has a taupe comforter that looks like raw silk with a matching canopy. The carved wood headboard and bedposts are massive and masculine. The soft glow of the chandeliers makes the room feel warm and intimate.
    Hot Guy acts like it’s nothing, but I know this room is bigger than most flats in London. Hell, the bathroom is bigger than my bedroom.  
    I’m still hovering in the doorway, shocked. Either Hot Guy has money or he killed someone who did.  
    “How long are