Page 181 of Claimed At First Sight

She continues staring through the glass for another few seconds before answering.

“I didn’t think I was.” She lets out a small, shaky breath. “But I’ve never been in a building this high.”

Before I can reply, a powerful gust slams into the tower. The sway is slight, little more than the familiar movement engineered into the building, but beside me Mia goes rigid.

Her head snaps toward me, her eyes searching my face as though to confirm she hadn’t imagined it. The color in her cheeks fades a shade.

“Did the building just move?”

She asks the question carefully, almost hopefully, as though she’d prefer me to tell her she’d made the whole thing up.

“It did.”

Her stare lingers on me for a beat.

“You say that far too casually.”

“It’s designed to do that.”

She closes her eyes for a moment. “I hate that sentence.”

“Mia, it’s perfectly safe.”

“That wasn’t the part I objected to.” She looks back toward the windows before adding, “Why would anyone build a skyscraper that’s supposed to move?”

“Because allowing it to sway a little prevents structural damage.”

She blinks.

“That explanation somehow made it worse.”

Her gaze drifts back to the wall of glass just as another gust buffets the tower. The movement is no greater than before, but this time Mia seems to feel it more.

Her hand shoots to my forearm, gripping it with surprising strength.

“I don’t like this.”

The words leave her in a rush before she realizes what she’s done. Her fingers immediately loosen, and she takes a small step back.

“Sorry.”

My eyes drop briefly to the place where she’d been holding on to me.

“Don’t apologize.”

Before I’ve consciously decided to do it, my arm settles around her shoulders, drawing her a little closer.

I expect her to pull away. Instead, she remains still for a moment before the rigid tension begins to leave her body and her weight settles cautiously against me.

Outside, the storm continues to intensify. Visibility has shrunk to almost nothing, entire buildings swallowed behind a wall of swirling white. Only scattered lights remain, flickering through the blizzard like distant stars.

Something dark suddenly tumbles through the air. A split second later, what looks like a broken branch strikes the glass with a sharp crack.

Mia startles. “Maximo.”

I’ve never heard my name sound like that on her lips. The usual fire is gone, replaced by a vulnerability she’s trying hard to hide.

“That was a tree.” She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine.