“It’s okay. We’ll take good care of him, she’lahn,” he added, his voice soft and soothing. “Thank you for helping him.”
Mr. Mean snorted.
“Go back to your room.” The nice guy dropped a robe around my shoulders. It was thick and long and so warm. I liked him out of the three men. He was nice.
They were definitely not EMTs. Other than the heavy robes, they were shirtless and wore the same pants with laced-up strings on the sides. They also had similar tattoos etched around their necks and chests. I glanced toward the guy I’d tried to save, but Mr. Mean moved and blocked my vision.
“Go,” he said and showed me teeth. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his voice was cold. I didn’t like him the most. What did Mr. Nice call him? Levi.
“In case you missed the translation, Levi, I wasn’t kissing him. I was trying to save his life. I’ve called the paramedics. They should be here any minute to help.”
“We dismissed them. He doesn’t need saving,” Levi said.
What? Levi just got demoted to an asshole.
“Of course, he needs to be saved. Just because he is pining for his mate and tried to off himself doesn’t mean you give up on him. Maybe you should call Nerissa.” Shock flashed on Levi’s face, and he exchanged a look with the other guy. “She sounded like the type of girl who’d fight for him. Maybe even kick his ass once he’s back on his feet. She said your people needed him. No leader should pull this kind of crap when his people depend on him.”
The man I liked chuckled and muttered something in a foreign language, but Levi didn’t respond. He was staring at me like he wanted to push me in the water and drown me. He was one intimidating dude.
“Go!” he snarled, and I found myself obeying and hating him.
Shivering, my teeth chattering, I hurried to the building. When I looked back, Levi was still staring after me.
“If he dies, I’ll report your ass to the authorities, Levi,” I called out.
His teeth flashed again, but I couldn’t tell whether he smiled or snarled. Didn’t really care because he turned and I saw the guy I’d tried to save sit up. He was okay. My crazy night adventure had not been for nothing.
I padded into the foyer, and the front desk manager looked up. I recognized him from two days ago when we’d checked in, and I’d seen him around the hotel. He scowled, his eyes narrowed on my clothes.
“Late night swim, Miss Greendale?”
“Yeah,” I said, too cold to care what he thought.
“Always inform the front desk before you use the pool this late at night,” he said, sounding annoyed and condescending. “We don’t want to be held liable if a guest drowns because they fancied a late-night swim.”
He didn’t just reprimand me. Not after saving one of his guests. After Alien Levi, I had just about had it.
“You weren’t here earlier, or I would have told you,” I shot back.
“Oh.” A sheepish expression crossed his face. “Uh, sorry about that. I’d gone to check the fuse box after the lights around the pool went out.”
“I hope you fixed it, because you don’t want to be held liable if they go off while a guest is out for a walk and she ends up falling into the pool and drowning.”
He paled, and the look on his face as he apologized made me feel a whole lot better. I hurried along the hallway, entered the elevator, and punched the button for the top floor. It took forever to arrive at my floor.
The top floor was quiet, the hallway empty. I was cold and miserable. Even the thick robe couldn’t keep me warm. Worse, I was barefoot and each step hurt. Never again would I rescue some idiot from drowning in the middle of the night. Never, ever jump into the damn pool in my pajamas.
I was outside my door when I realized I’d left my keycard by the pool and my phone was still roadkill on the pavement. Why me? Why did every freaking rotten thing happen to me? I wanted to scream and vent and slug someone, starting with the guy I’d fished out of the pool and his buddy Levi.
Turning to head back downstairs, I bumped into a solid broad chest and stepped back. I had to tilt my head back to look into the palest eyes I’d ever seen on a man. Silver eyes. There was something familiar about his face, yet I’d never met him before. I would have remembered those eyes. And that face. Holy crap!
It was all planes and angles. Hard and uncompromisingly male. His cheekbones were chiseled, his lips defined but pinched too tight as though he was pissed. Shaggy black hair almost brushed his shoulders in the back and covered his ears on the sides.
He looked… I’d say mid-to-late twenties. But his youthful face was at odds with his hard, silver eyes, and the jagged scar running along his neck. If someone were to ask me, I’d say he’d escaped a noose. Not just a regular noose either. The scar looked deep as though they’d used a barbed wire. Then he’d attempted to cover the scar with tattoos. His tattoos were similar to the ones I’d seen on the necks of Levi and the nice guy.
“Are you done?” the man asked, and I recognized the deep voice from the balcony, except it was no longer sexy. It was annoyed.
This was the man I’d just saved? The man who’d jumped because he was pining for his woman? What had the woman, Nerissa, called him? Storm. How come his hair was dry? And how had he made it upstairs so fast? He must have taken the stairs and beaten the elevator.
The door behind him opened wider to reveal Levi and the other guy. Mr. Nice nodded and smiled. I’d missed his messy man bun in the dark. He was beautiful underneath that beard.
I’d also missed Levi’s sepia complexion and lack of head hair. It suited him, especially with his goatee and gold ear hoops. His eyes looked even more startling in the well-lit room. I’d never seen a black guy with such piercing blue eyes. He wasn’t bad looking either, if one could overlook his annoying personality.
A growl from Storm, and my focus shifted to him. His expression was thunderous as though he hadn’t liked the close scrutiny I’d given the others. Levi said something, and the two of them laughed. I had a feeling it was at my expense, which only made me dislike him even more. Storm smiled, his lips softening. He looked less intimidating when he smiled.
“You left this outside,” he said, and my eyes flew to his hand. He was holding my keycard.
“Thanks.” I took it. “My phone slipped from my hand and fell from the balcony. I forgot to pick it up.” I started past him, but he blocked my path. I backed up.
“We’ll get it,” he said and glanced at the other two. Levi disappeared inside the room, and the sound of a sliding door followed.
“This belongs to Mr. Nice over there,” I said, shrugging off the robe and briefly making eye contact with him. “Thank you.”
Levi returned and passed my phone to Storm. How had he gotten it? Aliens. Definitely aliens. They probably walked up and down the wall without worrying about gravity.
Once again, a growl drew my attention back to Storm. His head dipped as his eyes trekked down my body and back up. I was wet and cold, and my clothes clung to every inch of my body, revealing my puckered nipples. They had no business reacting to his scrutiny as though he’d touched them.
I wanted to cover my chest and hide, but that would tell him his scrutiny had bothered me. I stared right back at him, shooting loads of dislike and “eff you, pal” his way.
“You know if you growled less and talked more, I’d know what it is you’re trying to say,” I said.
His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched. Mean Levi said something in that weird language of theirs again, except I picked up on a few words this time. They were speaking English but were pronouncing the words differently. The guy I liked laughed. They both received a glare from Storm this time. Once again, I wasn’t in on the joke, which was obviously at my expense. This time, I mentally gouged out Levi’s eyes.
I pushed the robe into Storm’s arms and tried to grab my phone, but he moved away from my hand.
“Give me back my phone,” I said, getting angry.
“Ke
ep the robe,” he said. “You need it.” He covered my front with it as though preserving my modesty. His hand grazed my cheek, and we both froze. My gaze flew to his, and I caught the shock in his before he lowered his eyelids. He sniffed, shook his head, and sniffed again.
“Give me your hand,” he ordered.
I obeyed then wished I hadn’t. Levi had barked words at me, too. Were they allergic to the word “please,” or wasn’t the word part of their vocabulary? He’d just joined the blue-eyed fiend on my list of most hated aliens.
He dropped my cell phone on my palm, making extra effort not to touch me. Without saying a word, he backed into their suite, his gaze not leaving my face as though he was searching for something. Then he slammed the door.
Wow. Talk about rude. Not even a thank-you for saving his life. I should have let him drown. I stuck out my tongue at his door.
“Jackass. If I catch a cold, I’m holding you responsible,” I muttered, turned, and opened my door.
A lamp turned on, and I whipped around. Mr. Sinclair stared at me from the couch, his expression thunderous.
“Where have you been?” he barked.
I’d had enough of men barking at me tonight, but I couldn’t afford to lose it with him. He was my boss. Unfortunately, Mr. Sinclair was a perfectionist. If he doubted my ability to take care of his only child, he’d fire me on the spot.
My mind raced with possible explanations. The truth was the only thing that would save my job. On the other hand, no one would believe the story about a Neanderthal diving into the pool from the twelfth floor.
So half-truth it is.
“I was talking to my mother on the balcony when I dropped my phone.” The phone that was intact despite the fall. I wouldn’t believe me either. Turning it on, I pulled up call my history and showed him. It showed the time of her call. “See? I went downstairs to get it when I heard a splash in the pool. I thought someone was drowning. I went to help when the lights went off. You can check with the front desk. I just spoke with the night manager. He’d gone to fix the fuse and was very apologetic.” All verifiable.
Mr. Sinclair studied me without moving. “Was someone drowning?”
“Yes. A guy. I performed CPR on him. Then his friends came and got him. I even called 9-1-1. Their room is next door if you want to confirm it. One of them gave me this robe. He felt sorry for me, I guess.” I shrugged.
Mr. Sinclair’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t need to check with the front desk or these strangers. Trust is something I value in my employees, and you, Alexandria, have never given me a reason not to trust you.” He indicated a chair adjacent to his. “Sit down, please.”
“May I change first, please? I jumped into the pool in my pajamas.”
He nodded impatiently. “Go ahead.”
I hurried to the bedroom and grabbed a large T-shirt and shorts. What was so important that it couldn’t wait until morning? Of course, I wouldn’t dare ask him. He often kept odd hours.
I grabbed a fresh hotel robe while racking my brain about what he wanted to discuss with me. Probably lay out my duties during the cruise. He’d already given me printed material on children-friendly activities on board the Blue Diamond and excursions on the stops along the way.
I left my wet clothes in the bathroom sink and hurried back to the living room. My stomach sank at the expression on his face. It was blank. Maybe I was being fired. I sat on the edge of my seat and hoped he couldn’t hear my pounding heart. I needed this job, even if it was only for one more month.
“I didn’t want to bring this up until we came back from the cruise,” he started, choosing his words carefully, which only made me more apprehensive. “But I spoke with your mother a few days ago about our trip, and we came to an understanding.”
Oh crap. My stepmother might dislike me, but she always kept it within the family. With Mr. Sinclair, she often acted the part of a doting mother, wanting to know where we were going and wringing her hands as though worrying about my safety. I wouldn’t put it past her to go behind my back and ask him to raise my salary.
“What understanding?”
“About your brother’s surgery.”
My heart dropped, and a hollow feeling settled in my stomach. The doctors had said Tommy would never walk again after the accident. He had damaged his spine and lost a lot of spinal fluid.
“What surgery?”
“During Tommy’s last visit with doctor, uh…” He reached for a manila envelope I hadn’t seen until now, but I was impatient.
“Dr. Radcliff?” I piped in.
“Yes.” He patted the envelope. “Dr. Radcliff said a neurosurgeon in Washington University School of Medicine is offering to operate on Tommy and fix his spine for free.”
No way. This was unexpected and welcomed, but I wasn’t ready to celebrate yet. “Free” was a word I wasn’t used to hearing. Heck, nothing in this world was free. If it came wrapped up in bows and smelled like roses, there were worms inside. That was my stepmother’s favorite expression. And I knew for a fact that no one played Santa without expecting something in return, least of all a doctor.
“The surgeon is at the University of Washington?” I asked tentatively when I wanted to ask, “What’s the catch?”
“Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri,” Mr. Sinclair said impatiently. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. As usual, he wore custom-made silk pajamas, his usually impeccably styled golden-blond hair slightly mussed. “Dr. Radcliff said Thomas’s spine is twisted at a weird angle and that’s why he’s paralyzed from the waist down, but with the right surgery using, uh, titanium rods to hold it in place, his spinal cord can be fixed. He’ll need therapy. Months of it.”
This was music to my ears. I was sure I looked like an eager puppy as he talked, but I’d prayed for a miracle the last two years and had given up hope. If Tommy needed me to postpone college to help with his therapy, I was volunteering.
“What can I do to help?” I asked.
Mr. Sinclair smiled, which gave me hope. “We’ll get to that. The surgeon works at a teaching hospital and will use the surgery to teach his students. He chose Thomas because your brother is young. Playing basketball with paraplegic veterans has made him strong. However, this is your brother’s last chance. The nerves along his spine are dying, so if he doesn’t do the surgery soon, it will be too late.”
I didn’t want to hear that. I’d always believed Tommy would walk one day. The how and the when were often the problem.
“He will still need care and physical therapy after the surgery,” Mr. Sinclair continued. “And that’s what the university cannot cover.”
My stomach started to hurt, hope leaching out fast. “How much will that be?”
“Sixty thousand dollars.”
We didn’t have that kind of money. We could barely afford Tommy’s meds and physical therapy now. I’d been saving money since I started working for the Sinclairs, hiding most of it inside a box under the floorboards in my bedroom. At first, I’d wanted to open an account, but with my stepmother as the cosigner, that money would have been gone by now. The Sinclairs had always paid me more than your average sitter and hiked up my hourly rates when I turned sixteen. That was the time Mrs. Sinclair became seriously ill. Still, whatever I had saved would never cover the cost of Tommy’s postsurgical care. Hell, it wouldn’t put a dent in it.
“We can’t afford that, Mr. Sinclair.”
“I know, Alexandria, but I can. Earlier today, I spoke with Dr. Radcliff and the surgeon at the medical school.”
My jaw dropped. “You?”
“Yes. Me. I’m going to help.”
Tears rushed to my eyes, and my throat closed up. Don’t you dare break down now. Take a deep breath. Calm your ass down, and don’t start kissing his class rings with gratitude yet. There might still be a catch.
“Do you remember the first time you came to our house for an interview?” he asked, a shadow drifting in the depths of his light blue
eyes. Sienna had his eyes.
I cleared my throat before saying, “Mrs. Sinclair offered me tea and freshly baked scones.” I’d been busy gawking at the pure luxury of their home when Mrs. Sinclair had floated into the room and invited me to the solarium for a cup of tea. I’d been nervous and desperate, but within minutes, she’d had me talking about school, my family, and what I wanted to do in the future. Before long, we were discussing books. We’d had two things in common. Books and food. She’d grown herbs in her greenhouse, which she’d personally planted and tended. Her herbs had saved meals in my home the last several years.
“Myrna later told me it wasn’t just your common interests that she liked,” Mr. Sinclair said. “It was your confidence and drive at such a young age. You are sensible, and it showed even then. I know you plan to go to college, so what I’m about to ask might seem unfair to you.”
I swallowed, not liking the direction of the conversation. “What is it?”
“Sienna needs you. You’ve been in her life since she was a baby, and in the last two years, she’s become even more dependent on you. I don’t want her to lose the two most important people in her life back-to-back. I will take care of all your brother’s post-surgery rehabilitation expenses, transportation to and from St. Louis, and food and accommodation for him and your mother. All I ask is you defer college for a year and watch Sienna—”
“Done,” I cut him off and lost the battle with my tear glands. “Anything for my brother. I’ll do it.”
He smiled, reached out as though to pat my arm, and stopped. He wasn’t a demonstrative man. “I’m not done yet. I will still pay your salary and give you a substantial raise.”
Ugly crying coming up. I covered my mouth and nodded. Words couldn’t pass my throat. I would have worked for free if it meant my brother got what he needed. I would lose the scholarship, but I could always reapply. Postponing college for a family emergency looked good on scholarship applications.
I scrambled to my feet when Mr. Sinclair stood. I wanted to hug him and kiss him, but that would only make him uncomfortable. I hugged myself and tried to control my tears.
Storm: Phantom Islanders Part I Page 3
