5. Hannah
Chapter 5
Hannah
I f Reylor’s gorgeous amber eyes kept smoldering like that, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.
I wanted to climb him like a tree.
Drag him down to the floor and have my way with him.
Take him to my filled tub and climb in naked with him.
Totally inappropriate thoughts for the guy I’d only met today, let alone hired.
“Does Monsters, PI have any rules about detectives dating clients?” I blurted out, slapping my hand over my mouth the moment I said it.
He advanced on me in the dark hallway.
I backed up until my butt reached the wall.
What I wouldn’t give for him to lift me up, press me against the dingy green floral wallpaper, and kiss me.
No. We couldn’t kiss. We couldn’t date.
He stroked my hair away from my lashes where it had snagged. “No rules about that.” A smile teased across his lips, and he leaned close, caging me with his big palms pressing the wall, pulling in a slow breath by my hair. “You smell luscious. Like ripe berries, something spicy, and lust. Are you feeling lust for me, sweetheart?”
I’d fallen into a paranormal romance novel, and I never wanted to climb back out.
Except . . .
Ex-issues.
I was burned, and after I sold everything other than the possessions I could stuff in my car, I told myself I wouldn’t date anyone until my business was open and thriving.
It not only wasn’t open but at this rate, the odds of it thriving were practically nil.
“I . . . I . . .” I scooted out from beneath his arms, and let me tell you, it was all I could do to make my body do it. I wanted to melt into his embrace and see if his mouth tasted as yummy as it looked.
Beg him to shift and take me for more than one ride.
Damn me for letting my lust try to carry me away.
“Show me your bedroom,” he said.
“What?” I blurted out.
His eyebrows lifted. “You said water came in through your ceiling?” He was studying me. What did he see? Probably a woman who didn’t know what she wanted.
My heart still hurt from my ex’s betrayal, but my best friend going after my fiancé topped the cake. They were engaged now. Planning their wedding at the same venue I’d picked for mine.
The hate I felt for them both could burn down a building.
I dragged my brain back to the situation at hand. “Oh, yes. This way.” I unlocked the door with the code on the pad. “I installed this myself.”
“Good idea. No need for guests to wander into your private areas.”
He followed me into the sitting area and then on to my bedroom. “My bathroom’s that way.” I pointed to the left.
He ducked his head into the smaller room before coming back out to stare up at the ceiling.
I was grateful I’d remade my bed and tidied this morning. No reason I needed to look like a slob. I’d even placed decorative pillows on the bed, and I had to admit, it looked lovely. I’d peeled off the wallpaper in this room, choosing to take care of my own quarters first. I needed a nice place to retreat to at the end of the day, and the pale green walls contrasted nicely with the darkly stained antique wooden trim. The bedspread and pillows featured a seaside theme I planned to carry though the house. Shells. Sea glass. Beach grass. And seabirds.
The windows remained closed, yet I felt a sudden rush of cool air, chilly enough it made a shiver shoot through me.
“I’d put heat pumps into my bedroom first as well,” he said, taking pictures of the ceiling. “I imagine the AC is wonderful at night.”
“I haven’t installed any heat pumps here yet.”
He turned a frown my way. “Then where’s the cold air coming from?”
“Oh, that’s Justin.”
“Justin?”
“Blakemore. The resident ghost. But I swear, he didn’t cause this,” I nudged my chin toward the dark water stains on the ceiling, “and I don’t believe he uprooted my flower beds either.”
Reylor came over to stand in front of me, his sharp gaze meeting mine. “A ghost sent cold air through the room?”
“Why not? That’s the most common paranormal activity.” I’d looked it up online. “He doesn’t communicate verbally, just in other, subtle ways. It’s more about feelings.”
“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
Another gust of cold air swept through the room.
Reylor’s eyes traveled to the door I’d shut when we entered the sitting room. He strode over to the bathroom opening again. “Those windows are closed as well. Where’s the cold air coming from? Are you piping it up from the basement?”
“It’s Justin.”
His low growl rang out. “And what is Justin saying with the cold air?”
“That he likes you.” I waved to the bed. “He left you something.”
Reylor sucked in a breath before he strode over to lift the pocket watch lying on the bedspread. “This wasn’t here a moment ago.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Did you put it here?”
“I haven’t moved.” A smile flickered across my mouth. “I was stunned at first too, but you get used to it.”
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” he said again, staring at the antique watch lying on his palm.
“So says the dragon shifter.”