Page 8 of Scarred Ruin

Things had changed, hospitals designed with children in mind built in several cities, even some with playrooms and libraries. However, they were often too small for many children to be able to enjoy or the funding was limited. My drawing reflected a larger building, with recreational opportunities including a movie theater complete with popcorn and candies, an arcade, several different playrooms for various ages and much more.

I knew the grandiose setting was a pipedream, likely too much for what the client had in mind, but that’s why the sketches had never been meant for anyone to see them just yet. They were my inspiration.

They were also a tether to my sister, a way of soothing the old wounds that had been opened once again.

“You even have a hotel for the families, several eateries. Your imagination truly is remarkable.” James was trying to take away the brunt of my anger, but it wasn’t working. “Why don’t we escape this shindig and go find a bar, have a drink together.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Come on. I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”

An ache had already formed behind my eyes, the pain edging toward becoming significant enough to consider it a migraine, which I hadn’t experienced in years.

“While I know you mean well, James, do me a favor and leave me alone.”

It became apparent very quickly that he wasn’t interested in honoring my request. “Why are you so angry? You already have several important people on board with your design. At this point, you should be eternally grateful that you were recommended as the project manager.”

At this point I needed to take out my anger out on someone. I spun around on my heels, grateful they’d added a couple of inches to my height so I could even look down on James. “And just why is that?”

People were everywhere, the expansive space suddenly becoming oppressive. Guests were talking and laughing, enjoying themselves while I was lost in transitional phase of the past.

“Because you’re not qualified for the position.”

“How interesting you were praising me earlier, but when I turned you down, you suddenly think I’m a hack. Which is it?”

He was about to retort when we both felt a presence, James stiffening while my curiosity was instantly piqued.

Whoever was making his approach, I gathered a sense of dominance that was typically reserved for someone of the utmost power. Perhaps I was willing someone of authority to interrupt the terse conversation before I considered doing something I regretted. Whatever the case, the air was suddenly dense.

The ambient chatter of the room didn’t so much die down as it was gently pushed aside, parting like a curtain.

I searched the crowd in hopes of finding the source of the electrified sensations that were certainly unwarranted by my current company. I allowed my gaze to move from one person to another, finding nothing of interest. Then finally I noticed a tall, dark, and handsome man making a direct approach.

There was no hurry in his step, but his long strides were powerful nonetheless. He carried himself as if he owned not only the ballroom but the entire hotel, his shoulders so broad I wondered if he was unable to fit through a typical doorway.

When he passed by others, there wasn’t a single person in close proximity who wasn’t paying close attention.

As he moved closer, the casual laughter in the room didn’t just fade, it sharpened. If it hadn’t been for the rapid beating of my heart, I could have heard a pin drop.

What was so strange about his approach was that with the number of people surrounding him, I’d yet to get a decent look at his face. Yet there seemed to be no need. I knew instinctively he was coming for me.

I couldn’t help but notice the quiet shift in the air as he walked by. It was almost hypnotic, a quiet frenzy of hair-tossing and lingering, speculative gazes from the women who longed for a single taste if not an entire night.

Perhaps my imagination was merely working overtime.

Each confident stride closed the distance between us and in those few seconds, an inappropriate moment of desire replaced all thoughts of common sense or even decency. His gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made the surrounding chatter fade into a dull hum.

The air grew inexplicably heavier, charged with that quiet, commanding gravity that followed him everywhere.

James had already sensed his presence, becoming more nervous than he’d been with his egregious flirtations before.

With the last few people moving silently from the stranger’s way, he closed the distance to where I was standing.

What I found most interesting in the next few seconds was how possessive James had suddenly become. Did the man actually believe I owed him anything?

I was caught off guard by how intense my instant connection was with the stranger, unable to completely process why every inch of my body was tingling. My breath caught, a sudden, involuntary gasp that I hoped went unnoticed. He was undeniably, distractingly gorgeous, with a predatory grace that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

His eyes were the first thing that drew me in. They were a striking, intense blue that held a quiet storm of secrets. When he looked at me, it felt as though he could see straight past my walls, reading my thoughts before I even had a chance to form them.