Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
At around three hundred years old, Silas had red eyes several shades lighter than his lips. His torso tapered from a muscled chest to a narrow waist. He craned his neck to see beyond Vero. “That looks miserable.”
“Yes.” Vero saw no need to go into detail. “Why are you still in camp?”
“I wanted to review the surveillance and computer equipment orders again.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and unfolded it.
Vero read it over quickly. “The list is complete.”
“Cameras and computers?” Lyrica asked, leaning closer, her breast brushing Vero’s arm.
Electricity arced through him, landing forcefully in his groin. His growl had her stiffening.
“The cameras for the interior of the encampment, and the computers to connect us to the outside world,” Silas said, clueless to the undercurrents. “We worked on ammunition supply, military infrastructure, and safety from outside attack first, although we don’t have satellite or internet reach yet. Also, we didn’t think we’d need interior surveillance. Apparently we do since someone attacked and killed that poor human female. Yet one more thing to worry about.”
Vero edged toward the door. “Silas, there’s a break in the snowfall now.”
Silas puffed out his chest and smiled at Lyrica. “You look real pretty in that dress, Lyrica.”
Pink filtered across her cheekbones. “Thank you, Silas. That’s nice of you to say.”
Irritation climbed down Vero’s back. “You want to join the speed dating?”
“No. Hell no.” Silas straightened his uniform with the silver medallions on his left breast.
“Change clothes,” Vero reminded him.
Silas glanced down at his pressed uniform. “I know. The mechanics are getting the helicopter warmed up. I have time to become more humanlike.” He cleared his throat. “I saw Doc for my injection and he wanted me to remind you that the facility in Dakota with the mind-wiping protocol needs funds.”
Damn it. Vero glared at him. “On it.”
Lyrica jerked. “What? Mind wiping?”
Silas nodded, obviously missing the tone of her voice. “Sure. For the females we release back to the human world.” He winked at Lyrica and hustled out into the cold, shutting the door loudly.
Vero just might have to kill the guy.
She whirled on him. “Wait a minute. You and Paxton said you liked my idea of giving them a million dollars and having NDAs. You can’t mess with their minds.”
He didn’t want to deal with this. “We do like your idea.”
She stared at him. “So you are not going to wipe their memories.”
“We haven’t decided.” That was the truth, and he needed to speak with Paxton about it.
She drew up. “Okay. Then I want to discuss the matter with you both.”
“Fine.”
Lyrica looked over her shoulder as the buzzer rang for everybody to move tables. “I don’t suppose we have to go back in,” she said softly, hope in her voice.
Amusement ticked through him. “No.”
She looked toward the window in the top of the door. “It’s a beautiful night. The moon is bright.” She bit her bottom lip as if undecided.
“I’m finished,” he said curtly. It seemed a waste of time to meet the females since he had no plans to mate one of them.
Her face lit up. “Then I can’t go back in. Perhaps I’ll run to the warehouse for more of the sparkling water. Apparently, it’s a huge hit.”
“Good,” Vero grunted. “I’ll escort you.”
“I can make it,” she said, reaching for the door.
He grasped her arm and pulled her back. “Jacket.” He looked at the multitude of coats and jackets on every hook in the mudroom just off the kitchen. He had no idea where they all had come from. “Where is yours?”
She shook her head. “Upstairs in my room. I hadn’t planned to leave the main lodge.”
The female needed a keeper. He removed a long wool coat off a rack. “Wear this.” The deep blue cashmere felt soft against his skin.
“That’s not mine,” she said.
“It’s not anybody’s.” He took her arm and pulled it through, before doing the same with the other one. While she protested, he buttoned up the coat and grabbed a heavy black scarf out of a cubby to wrap around her neck. He looked down at her little shoes. “Huh.” Ducking, he rummaged in the nearest basket and removed a pair of snow boots. “Step in.”
“They’re not mine,” she protested.
He leveled up, meeting her gaze. “Now.”
“You might try a complete sentence once in a while.” She stepped into the boots, keeping her flats on. “They’re too big.”
He tied them both. “They’ll keep your feet warm.” There. That was a complete fucking sentence. She was human and had no clue how frozen she could get. The image of the dead and frozen female from the night before flashed through his head. “Gloves.”
“No. I’ll use my pockets. I’m not taking someone else’s gloves.” She slapped his abs, branding him without knowing it. That touch. It tore through him with the force of a gale, filling every pore. She had no clue the danger she courted.