Eliza Gayle Witch Bundle (paranormal romance), Eliza Gayle [books suggested by bill gates txt] 📗

hadn’t eaten at all the day before. She quickly moved down the stairs, trying not to cause any creaks. She heaved a sigh of relief when she reached the bottom without incident.

With a fresh flood of adrenalin coursing through her body, her limbs were no longer heavy or slow.

Something isn't right here.

Why would Merc allow her free reign of the house? It would only take a few minutes for her to have the whole place crashing down on them in flames. A test maybe? Some sort of new trap? She'd figure it out and eventually find her way out. She always did.

Following the scent of freshly brewed coffee, she headed to what she assumed would be the kitchen. The layout of the house prevented her from seeing the interior of the room without actually stepping inside, or at the very least poking her head in the door. She debated the smart course of action, but when her stomach growled again she decided to go for it.

She moved into the kitchen, coming to an abrupt halt. Expecting Merc to be waiting, she nearly fell over in shock at the sight of the man cooking at the stove. Dressed only in faded jeans, she followed the curve of his spine up and out across his broad muscular shoulders. Tanned, smooth skin, except for a small scar below his right shoulder blade. The faded color of the skin around the scar indicated the injury was from a long time ago. She might not have known him long but she’d memorized that physique from the moment she met him.

Cash.

His dark hair stood mussed around his head like he'd just rolled out of bed. An image of him lying naked in a bed, teasing her with his broad hands and strong fingers, ran through her head. Him lying over her skin to skin as he pushed himself deep within in her warm willing body.

Whoa. Get a grip, Selene.

Truth be told, she was just happy and relieved to see him. She wanted to rush forward and wrap her arms around his waist. Holding on to him like she would a life preserver.

“What the hell is going on here, Cash? How are we—? Where are we?”

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine.” His voice rumbled through his body to hers, soothing her frazzled nerves despite his attempt at sarcasm. “It's about time you got your lazy butt out of bed. You hungry?”

She nodded, unable to speak again. She wasn't sure she could without crying or doing some other crazy girly thing while feeling so swamped with this unexpected and unwelcome emotion.

He put the spoon down on the edge of the pan full of eggs and turned to face her, his hand touching under her chin to tilt her face upward to meet his gaze. “I think we have a lot to talk about, don't we?” Selene blinked fighting tears and simply nodded her head again. “But first we eat. You've been out for quite a while and have to be starving. Go. Sit. While I finish this up.”

Needing a moment to focus on something else, she turned away. Looking around the kitchen, Selene imagined if she was much of a cook she’d be in heaven in this place. Tall, oversized stainless steel appliances filled the room, large countertop workspaces gleamed, and there was even a beautiful brick oven in the far corner. Not to mention the smooth wood floors under her feet someone lovingly polished on a regular basis. Curious to know more, she leaned over the counter and peered through the window over the sink. Outside she found a lush and manicured small lawn with a tall privacy hedge wrapped all the way around it, hiding the house from prying eyes as well as blocking the view from the inside. The owner had created the ultimate private retreat. A small garage stood in the far corner of the yard, connected to the house by a covered walkway.

“Cash, whose house is this? And more importantly, where is it?” She moved from the window and sat down at the scarred wooden table against the far wall. Running her fingers over the aged wood, she thought the table should have been out of place in this elegant kitchen, but instead something about it fit and made the kitchen feel like a home. There were many nooks and cuts in the wood, indicating this table had seen its fair share of use. She even found some initials carved in the corner. Her fingertips ran over them. C.S.

“I see you’ve already found the carvings of a bored teenage boy.” He set down a plate in front of her with a heaping amount of food on it. Her mouth watered at the sight of eggs, bacon, toast and plump red strawberries.

“C.S., is that you?”

“Sure is. Cash Scott, bored teenager and all around troublemaker.” He grinned down at her.

Selene laughed. She could definitely picture him exactly that way. All dark and broody, dressed in leather even back then. Probably drove his parents crazy.

“So this is your house?”

“It's one of our family residences. My brothers and I lived here for a few years as teens, but for the most part the place stays empty now except when one of the family passes through town.”

“Only one of your residences?” she asked.

“Well, not mine personally. My family, however, does own several.”

“Who the hell are you? Should I already know?”

“Not necessarily. We aren’t celebrities or anything. Just richer than God.”

She rolled her eyes. “Greaaat. I’ve been kidnapped by a psychopath.”

“A rich psychopath, thank you very much. Although I think kidnapped is a little strong for picking up an unconscious woman and bringing her here until she recovers.”

“Where exactly is here?”

“Boston. We're in Boston. Not all that far from where we stopped yesterday. Maybe forty-five minutes or so. And don’t worry. Your bike is tucked safely away in the garage around back.”

“How—who—when?”

He laughed. “Slow down. Eat your breakfast and I'll fill you in on what happened. And then you