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)
Lyrica shivered. The male who’d looked with sorrow upon his fallen friend was gone. This soldier, his voice gritty with determination, he remained.
Vero must’ve caught her movement. “It’s snowing out here. Lyrica, I want you back at the main lodge. I have guards I trust in place. Then later, you and I are going to have a chat about your safety.”
Why did that sound like a threat?
Chapter Sixteen
A chat about her safety? Seriously? She was always careful. About everything. What had Vero been hinting at? Or about? After a supper of fried chicken, Lyrica slammed her file folders on her desk and kicked off her snow boots. Her ears heated. What had he meant by that? His eyes had warmed as he’d said the words, and there had been definite challenge in his tone.
What in the world did that even mean?
She flopped onto her desk chair and laid her head back on the smooth leather, shutting her eyes and breathing with extreme control. She’d never shied away from her temper. But first, she had to figure out what was ticking her off to this degree.
A soft knock came at her door.
“Come in,” she snapped.
After a hesitation, the door slowly opened. “I’m sorry to bother you,” Genevieve said quietly, “but you left me a note on my desk, asking me to drop by.” The girl looked at her, her eyes wide.
“Oh yes. Sorry.” Lyrica forced her tone to calm. “I didn’t mean to snap.”
“That’s okay.” Genevieve wrung her hands together. “The prince isn’t in his office, so I could help you for a moment if you like.”
Actually, Genevieve was supposed to be assisting both of them, but she spent most of her time hovering near Vero’s door as if afraid to be caught not working.
“It’s after dinner, and you don’t need to be working at all,” Lyrica said softly. “But since you’re here, come in and sit down.”
Genevieve gulped and nodded, walking inside and shutting the door. Today, she wore black jeans and a pretty blue sweater that matched the sky on a fully sunny day. “Do you think the prince will be working late?”
“I have absolutely no idea,” Lyrica gestured toward one of the two white leather chairs on the other side of her desk. When she’d set up the camp, the Kurjans had given her carte blanche with a credit card, and she’d made good use of it. It must be absolutely fabulous not to have financial worries.
Genevieve sat and crossed her legs, plastering on a placid expression.
One of Lyrica’s eyebrows rose. “I thought we should have a little talk.”
“Oh?” Genevieve asked quietly.
Lyrica took a drink of her third coffee of the day. She liked it strong and could handle about three cups before her stomach became upset. It was rather amusing how much Vero enjoyed both the sparkling water and the apple cider she purchased. He must not be the only one enamored with the bubbly water—the kitchen kept running out of the cold delight. “Yes. I know that you have considered staying here with the Kurjan nation, and I’m happy that you’re making choices, considering your difficult time in the beginning.”
“I’m fine. I don’t really have anywhere to go. And, I don’t know, it’s kind of cool being on the inside of a huge secret, you know?” Genevieve asked, her eyes sparkling.
“I do know,” Lyrica said, enjoying the excitement and positive feelings coming from the girl. “I think it’s fascinating that all these immortal beings have been able to keep their secret through the millennia.”
Genevieve pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. “Are you going to stay?”
“I don’t think so,” Lyrica said. “I want to finish the job and maybe move on.” But did she? Was there anything inside her that wanted to move on? She did have a life, and she enjoyed her job, and she missed her friends from her previous job, but she had rapidly made new friends out of both necessity and danger. She would miss Genevieve horribly.
The girl shifted on her seat. “I thought maybe you and Vero, you know, had started up something.”
Lyrica’s head jolted. “Seriously? What gave you that idea?”
“Tension,” Genevieve said easily. “Definitely tension. The air kind of pops when the two of you are around each other.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Lyrica protested.
Genevieve grinned and chewed the inside of her lip. “If you say so.”
“I do,” Lyrica said, cupping her hands around the hot mug. “I wanted to ask you again about this Lukas you mentioned.”
Genevieve sobered immediately. “He’s nice. Super nice. We hang out sometimes. That’s all.”
If that wasn’t complete baloney, Lyrica couldn’t imagine anything more absurd. She could feel the girl’s emotions. “Tell me more.”
Genevieve paled and looked down at her hands. “There isn’t more.”
“Uh-huh,” Lyrica said. A sharp rap on the door had them both jumping in their seats. Lyrica’s lungs compressed. She recognized that heavy hand. “Come in, Vero,” she muttered.