Home > Work > Storm Damages (Storm Damages, #1)
61 " with the face of an angel. A devil more like, if half the tabloid reports "
― Magda Alexander , Storm Damages (Storm Damages, #1)
62 " My mobile. Excuse me.” When he wanders to the couch to retrieve his jacket, I sigh. The man’s got one of the finest rear ends I’ve ever seen. "
63 " I’ve worked practically round the clock for the last two weeks and spent the last three hours performing a high-level analysis of complex material. My brain’s fried. My body’s exhausted. All I can think of is sleep. “Sorry, no can do. I’m going to bed. "
64 " He grabs his jacket from where he left it on the couch and races up the stairs two steps at a time. He’ll have a hard time dressing without his shirt, but I’m not about to follow and hand it to him. Not until Casey calms down. I’ve seen the kind of damage he can inflict with his fists, never mind kitchen utensils. "
65 " the yellow pad on which he's scribbled his notes. "Type this and come up. And notify Brian and the rest of the group that the Storm Industries team is here. "
66 " soft terry robe, stroll across the space and open the "
67 " She was his meal ticket, love. He wasn’t about to kill his golden goose. She held all the power.” My voice grows "
68 " Samuel takes over the driving duties, as Jake climbs into the rear seat to fill me in on my father’s condition. “He’s out "
69 " Grinning back, he squeezes her hand. “I like you.” Having had enough of Royce’s tomfoolery, I stride toward him just as Brianna strolls in. Officially, she hasn’t met Elizabeth, so I perform "
70 " demand I release him, but simply stands there staring down "
71 " morning,” he says. Every one of my toes curls at his sexy drawl. “It is now. "
72 " Oh, Elizabeth. I drop my head against the steering wheel while the tears roll unheeding down my face. My heart. It hurts so much. Almost as much as my head. I drag in a deep breath and end up coughing, deepening the pain. "
73 " of my defenses. And I can’t afford to succumb to him. Deep into my musing, my stomach rumbles, reminding me it needs to be fed. “Hungry?” he asks, not unkindly. “I skipped lunch. Excuse me.” I make for the refrigerator where I spotted "
74 " Bloody hell. I need to pull over before I cause an accident. I’m edging to the shoulder when the excruciating pain hits. Like nothing I’ve known before. “Aarrrgghhhhhh.” I can’t see. I can’t bloody well see. I brake hard, pull the wheel "
75 " Brian, on the seat next to me. He changed his ticket from first class to coach and managed to snag two seats together on the back of the plane. He’s been kind enough to pull a blanket over my shoulder. "
76 " Yes. A couple of minutes ago. They’re sorting out first class.” His eyes telegraph kindness. And quite a bit of concern. He snaps open the overhead compartment. “Just your shoulder bag, right?” “Yes.” I stand up and "