Page 65 of Ash Storm

He took the key card from Carrie, looked at the number on the back.

Six.

It was only a few doors down from his own studio.

The office building they were currently occupying had once belonged to a multinational furniture company. The frugal owner had used the main floor as the company’s Swiss headquarters, and converted the top floor into a series of apartments for visiting executives in order to avoid having to pay for expensive hotel stays.

Ash didn’t know how the executives had felt about this arrangement, but it suited their team perfectly.

Ash led Reka into the elevator, careful not to crowd her. When the elevator doors opened, he followed her out and pointed her in the right direction.

“It’s at the end of this hallway,” he said.

He pretended not to notice the way she kept looking back, the way they’d come. He worried she’d be looking behind her shoulder for a long time.

Finally, they arrived at number six.

He pressed the key card against the side panel, waited for the click, and pushed the door open for her with one hand.

For a long time, Reka stood right outside the doorway. Finally, she took a few steps inside the room. All the apartments were similar, decorated in a style that could only be described as bare and functional. The only thing that varied between them was the accent color of the curtains and the sofa, which in this case seemed to be dark blue.

Somebody—probably Pascale or Carrie—had left a small pile of clothes and toiletries on the small table by the entrance.

And still, Reka stood still.

Ash could see she was fighting some kind of battle against herself. And he waited, determined to give her the time she needed—until she started visibly shaking.

He put his hand gently on her slim shoulder.

“Reka … what’s wrong?”

She looked up at him then, her beautiful eyes wide with fear.

“I don’t … I don’t feel safe,” she croaked.

At her words, bile rose to his throat. She had enough reason to feel this way, God knew, after the way he’d treated him in that room. But the thought of her fearing him was unbearable.

He stepped backwards until his ass hit the wall.

“No!” she said quickly. “I feel safe with you. But I don’t feel safe on my own, or with anyone else.” She waved her hand around the room. “This empty room is … not okay.”

Euphemism of the year.

It took a moment for his heartbeat to return to normal.

She didn’t fear him. The thought filled him with a strange elation. But she was afraid. And that couldn’t be.

Ash sighed. He stepped carefully around her, grabbed the clothes, and stepped back out.

“Come with me,” he said. He walked to his own room, just a few doors down, and brought out his own key card. He held the door open for her.

“Is this … is this your place?” she asked, looking around. In terms of decor, it was exactly like the one they’d been in moments earlier, though the decor in this one was all in forest greens.

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in her step this time as she walked past the small kitchen area and straight towards the window. There, beside the balcony door, sat the small table and armchair where he’d set out his chess set. It was his favorite spot in the room.

“You’re in the middle of a game,” she said. “Black’s winning. Which one are you?”