Devour Me. Lydia Parks

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      “You feeling okay?”

      Star glanced at Wendy and nodded. “Yeah.”

      “You sure?”

      “Yeah.” Her heart still raced from being so close to Benjamin. Now when she saw him, she pictured him leaning over her to kiss her, taking her in his arms.

      Insane.

      “Think we’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow?” she asked Jack.

      He shrugged and exchanged a meaningful look with Kyle. “Maybe.”

      Star narrowed her eyes. “What do you have planned?”

      “We have to put the fuel line in, that’s all. Sometimes that isn’t as easy as it looks.” He tried his innocent look on her, but it didn’t work. “Besides, it won’t hurt my feelings to stay here a few days while we work on it.”

      “You’re going to take stuff, aren’t you?”

      Jack turned his attention to his bowl of chili.

      “Don’t,” she said.

      “He won’t miss it,” Kyle said. “Look at this fucking place, will you?”

      The thought of stealing from Benjamin had grown from distasteful to downright rotten. But how would she stop them? If she told Benjamin and he called the cops, they’d all be in trouble.

      A feeling of dread skipped up her spine. Jones always said he had connections with cops all over the country. Had he just been blowing smoke, or did he really know cops in Boston? If they picked her up, would he be the one to bail her out? Chances were good he’d be pissed that she’d taken off in the middle of the night. In his mind, it didn’t seem to matter that he’d been screwing around; she was still supposed to be his girlfriend. What the hell had she seen in him in the first place?

      After polishing off the chili and halfheartedly cleaning up, the other three padded off to bed. They’d spent half the day walking to and from the gas station, and had then exercised, as Wendy called it. Star wasn’t the least bit tired. She’d spent most of the day sitting in the tower, daydreaming.

      She washed the dishes, dried them, and put them away, then wandered back to the main room where she drew a book, Call of the Wild, from the shelf and blew off the dust. She settled onto a sofa directly in front of the painting of the ship, opened the book, and began to read.

      The story quickly drew her in. She had no idea how long she’d been reading when the front door swung open.

      Star jumped, spilling the book from her lap. “Dammit.” She spun around as she snatched the book from the floor, but forgot to be annoyed when she caught sight of Benjamin.

      He shrugged off his cloak and hung it up as he stared at her. His hair was wind-blown and a stark contrast to the white shirt he wore. Black pants hugged muscular thighs, and his boots once again glistened with water, although it wasn’t raining. He strode toward her and all the air seemed to disappear from the room.

      “It appears I’ve interrupted your reading,” he said. “Forgive me.”

      She held the book at her side. “No big deal.”

      “No?” Benjamin stopped two feet in front of her and glanced at the book, then continued on to the cold fireplace where he knelt. “Mr. London told quite exciting tales.”

      In a few short moments, he had a fire roaring in the fireplace and stood, turning to face her. It had taken her half an hour to figure out how to get a fire started in the guest room, and it never had roared.

      “Have the others retired?”

      “Yeah.”

      “I see. And you chose to read instead.”

      She shrugged. “I wasn’t tired.”

      He frowned and looked around as if studying new surroundings. “I wish to apologize for my earlier behavior. Please forgive me.”

      He was apologizing? Since when did bullies apologize?

      “No problem.”

      He turned his frown on her, and then released it and nodded as if formally bowing. “Thank you.”

      Star swallowed hard. The white shirt he wore showed off more of him than the black one had. In the kitchen she’d been too uncomfortable to look very closely. Now she had a chance.

      He had to be well over six feet tall, his shoulders and chest were broad and muscular, and his belly showed no hint of a bulge. He must spend a lot of time working out. Jones was obsessed with working out, and he’d never looked half as good.

      There was something truly different about this man, however. Star tried to find a single word for it, but couldn’t. He had an air of authority about him, as if he were used to having his orders followed without question. And even in his own home, he seemed a little out of place. He was…what was it?

      Realizing she was staring, she mentally shook herself. “Uh, these are your books?” She used Call of the Wild to point to the bookshelf.

      “Aye, that they are.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stood with his feet spread.

      “How many of them have you read?”

      “All of them.”

      Was he serious? There were more books here than she could read in fifty years. “Holy crap,” she muttered.

      His eyebrows arched up and one corner of his mouth rose.

      Heat crawled up her throat to her cheeks. She hated being laughed at.

      Clenching her jaw, she marched to the bookshelf, slid the book back into place, and then turned to leave. “Good night.”

      “Wait.” He grabbed her arm.

      Star tried to jerk her arm from his grasp, but nothing happened. Although he wasn’t hurting her, his grip was like a vise she couldn’t shake. “Let go.”

      “Don’t leave.”

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