Page 184 of Claimed At First Sight

He’s only walking into another room, not boarding a plane to Antarctica. I’ll be fine.

The moment he disappears down the hallway, however, the fragile calm I’d been clinging to shatters. The apartment seems suddenly far too large, the storm too loud, and every groan of the building sounds as though it’s one gust away from catastrophe.

I spot a throw blanket over the back of the sofa and pull it toward me. Wrapping myself in it, I pull my knees against my chest and stare into the fire, trying to concentrate on the dancing flames instead of the wind battering the windows.

It doesn’t work.

I glance toward the hallway.

Where is he?

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Pull yourself together, Mialina,” I mutter under my breath. “You’re nineteen years old, not nine.”

Another gust whistles around the tower, followed by a dull groan from somewhere deep within the building.

My stomach twists.

That’s normal. Buildings make noises. Maximo lived here. He would know if something was wrong.

But what if this is the one storm they didn’t build it for?

My head snaps up when I hear footsteps echo down the hallway. Maximo reappears carrying an armful of thick blankets.

For one ludicrous moment, my panic evaporates.

My brain abruptly abandons any concern about the structural integrity of this skyscraper, because it’s too busy gawking. Gone is Maximo’s impeccably tailored suit that’s as much a part of him as his infuriating confidence.

In its place are charcoal sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a fitted black long-sleeved shirt that does absolutely nothing to conceal the broad shoulders and solid chest beneath.

My throat goes dry.

I’ve never seen a man look so attractive in loungewear. Actually, I’ve never seen a man in loungewear. Perhaps they all look like that?

No, somehow I doubt it.

He drops the blankets onto the rug in front of the sofa before peering over at me.

“Still with me, little rebel?”

“Hmm?”

My brain appears to have stopped processing words.

Amusement flickers in his eyes.

Oh God. He noticed I’ve been staring.

“I thought we could settle in front of the fire,” he says just as there’s a knock on the door.

The sound slices through the apartment, startling me out of my stupor and straight back into reality.

Wonderful. I’d much rather have continued pretending sweatpants were the most pressing issue in my life.

I drop the blanket and shoot to my feet.

“Who’s this? Are they here to evacuate the building?”