Page 67 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

M ichael’s boots pounded on the hardwood floors as he carried her down the hall. “I know you’re not as out of it as you’re pretending.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

She couldn’t see anything but the floor while he hauled her across the upper level, but she could hear the laughter in his voice.

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

“That can be arranged. It would make all this easier.”

She punched his back. “I can walk, you know.”

“But can you shut up?”

Down another long hall, they came to the last room, and Michael swung open the door. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight streaming through a wall of windows. She barely had time to register any details before being tossed onto a bed.

With her limbs fully functional again, she scrambled to the headboard. “Do not touch me.”

Michael clicked on a lamp, illuminating his chiseled features and the hint of auburn in his dark brown hair. “Not a problem.”

As her eyes adjusted, Jamison scanned the space.

It was a world apart from the room her cousins were trapped in.

This one was much larger with a king-sized bed, twin dressers, and a sitting area that featured not only the most comfortable-looking reading chair she had ever seen but also wall-to-wall bookshelves .

“Where are we?”

Moving to stand in front of the glass double balcony doors on her right, Michael stretched his arms overhead, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a muscled torso. “My bedroom.”

She figured as much. The room was simple and masculine but not without taste—clean lines, warm tones, unassuming elegance. It fit him.

“Take your shoes off the bed.”

When she didn’t move, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Take your shoes off the bed, or I’ll rip every piece of clothing off you and parade you around the house naked.”

She kicked her shoes off and let them fall to the floor one at a time.

“Thought so.” He kept his gaze fixed on the night beyond the windows. “I picked this room for the view. In the morning, you’ll see why. The lake’s beautiful, and the balcony is the perfect place to have coffee.”

Michael’s massive shoulders sank a little at the mention of coffee. “She loved iced coffee. Even on cold mornings. Always a mocha with vanilla crème and caramel drizzle. I tried to drink it with her a few times, but it was just too damn sweet.”

Jamison shook her head, trying to clear the lingering fog from her vision.

But no matter how she focused, she couldn’t make the shadowed figure circling Michael go away.

Her brain told her it was one of the women who kept following them, but it was impossible, even when the dark silhouette trailed its fingers along Michael’s shoulders while it swayed in the full moonlight.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Taylor wants a baby.” He smirked at the beautifully etched glass. “You understand that feeling, don’t you?”

She shifted, bracing herself on her knees. “That lunatic doesn’t deserve a baby.”

Glancing back over his shoulder, Michael Sinclair had the audacity to wink. “Agreed.”

Positive she hadn’t heard him correctly, Jamison opened her mouth to voice one of the many questions sprinting through her thoughts, but a knock at the door silenced them all, and she clung to the rustic wooden bed frame.

“Come in. ”

The door opened, and Jessica appeared, cradling a tray with two bowls of steaming hot soup and sandwiches on it. “I have your dinner.”

“Set it on the dresser.” Michael turned, crossing his arms. “Damon?”

Jessica placed the tray down carefully, then stood with her hands folded in front of her. “Fed.”

“Were you respectful, Jessica?”

“We only washed his chest and face. But... I think he needs to use the bathroom.”

“Bruce will handle it.”

“Do you want anything else from me?” Shuffling her feet, Jessica’s gaze flicked down Michael’s body. “I can help with her if you need me to. Or I can help in other ways. Taylor said you can’t have Jamison Fairweather tonight, but that doesn’t mean you should be alone.”

Michael took slow, deliberate steps toward the woman who looked so much like her partner in crime. With glasses and dark hair, Jessica and Krystal could be sisters, and maybe they were, which made their presence here all the more disturbing.

“Are you offering to have sex with me?” Michael asked, stopping just in front of her. “Answer me, Jessica.”

“I’ll do anything.” Jessica’s lips parted, her tongue darting out to lick them. “Anything.”

“Anything?” Michael sighed. “Great. Then get the fuck out.”

“But—”

Jamison’s eyes widened when Michael grabbed Jessica by the upper arm and shoved her toward the door. “Did I stutter? You said you’d do anything, so leave and stop sniffing around me, thinking I’m going to pity fuck you.”

Behind Michael, the not-quite-there shadow moved again, trailing its ghostly fingers down his spine when Jessica wouldn’t budge.

“Taylor said we would have free rein over this place, and once we arrived with you still here, we assumed it meant you were finally ready to play. And I, for one, was excited. You’re lonely and so fucking gorgeous.

There’s not a woman here who wouldn’t let you have them, me included. ”

Michael ran a hand through his hair, switching on the charm. “I’m sorry, Jessica. I’m tired and still have to deal with the problem currently gaping at me from my bed. ”

Snapping her mouth shut, Jamison squared her shoulders. “I’ll be happy to leave if you two want to be alone.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Michael opened the door, giving Jessica a roguish smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Jessica left without comment, a blush painting her cheeks, and Michael locked the door this time. “You need to take a shower.”

The man really was insane if he thought she was going to remove any of her clothing in this house. “Uh, no.”

Michael’s charming smile disappeared, and he looked tired again. “The dress is ruined. Your feet and shins are covered in dirt, your food is too hot to eat right now, and I need to check if it’s been drugged.”

“Don’t you decide who gets drugged?”

The shadow playing tricks on the wall appeared to almost hug Michael from behind, resting its head on the center of his back. Jamison decided right then that the drugs must be driving her insane, especially when it looked like Michael leaned into the thing’s touch.

“Tomorrow is a big day for us both.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze as he spoke, instead staring at the reading nook in the corner. “You need to rest, and the best way to do that is to get clean and have a full stomach. There are clothes in the bathroom cabinet you can wear.”

The constant chill in the air worked its way into her bones, and a shiver crawled through her body. “I said no.”

“Whatever.”

In one smooth motion, Michael reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt off. She gasped and lifted her hand as if she could block the sight of his naked chest. “I don’t need to see that.”

“But you don’t mind.”

Stupid bastard. She snatched one of the many throw pillows on the bed and launched it at him. Dipping his head casually to the side, Michael avoided the projectile as it sailed past his ear.

“Your aim sucks. Now go shower, or you’ll be subjected to a lot more than just me shirtless.”

He arched an eyebrow when she didn’t move, his fingers going for the button on his pants next.

The moment the zipper lowered, she was on her feet and staggering to the bathroom. “Asshole. ”

Slamming the door shut, she was momentarily taken aback by the sight of the massive bathroom.

Black marble tile flooring with beautifully textured smokey black walls stretched outward, ending at a muted gray stone soaking tub set beneath ten-foot balcony doors.

To the left, a long dark-wood cabinet ran the length of the space with twin glass vessel sinks sitting on top.

Various potted plants were scattered throughout the space, and thanks to Abe, she recognized a few.

“What the hell is this?” she whispered.

Like the bedroom, the bathroom held the same understated elegance. Crafted and constructed with care and love. Taking hesitant steps forward, she found towels and women’s clothing stored in the cabinet, just as Michael said.

And tucked away on the very top shelf, neatly folded and still in pristine condition, was a stack of navy-blue nurse scrubs.

Jamison ran a hand over the dark material. “CeCe.”

Something rustled in one of the plants behind her, and she fought the urge to squeal. Whatever else was in this bathroom, she didn’t need any more surprises, even if it was just a wayward lizard. “Go away.”

The shower was around the corner from the soaking tub, and after she figured out which of the many buttons to press, she lurched back when water came from all directions.

Narrowly missing the streams, she peeked through the windows in the shower’s alcove while waiting for the water to heat up. This balcony was more concealed than the one in the bedroom, with trees standing tall and close, like they’d grown to protect the room inside.

“Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

It was a struggle to remove her mother’s ruined wedding dress, and she ended up ripping off a button or two to get the halter off. When her growl of frustration echoed through the bathroom, a light knock at the door sounded.

“I can help,” Michael’s deep voice offered through the door.

“No, thank you!”

No, thank you? Had she just said no thank you to the terrorist? She silently blamed Simone for instilling good manners in her, and thinking of Simone again made Jamison burst into tears instantly.

Not wanting Michael to hear her sobbing, she entered the shower.

The water pelting her from the various showerheads made enough noise to cover the sound.

She had never felt so helpless. Never. She wanted to pay attention and had tried to notice the details so she could tell Liam later, but there were too many moving parts working against her.