The Architect by Nikki Sloane EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Nikki Sloane
- Language: English
- Genre: Literature & Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
A loud, insistent banging came from my front door, caused by an
angry fist, and I froze.
First of all, it was dark and pouring rain outside. There wasn’t an
overhang or porch to cover whoever was knocking on my door. And
second . . . what the actual fuck? I lived in the guest quarters behind
my parents’ house, and their property was surrounded by a fence.
So, I didn’t get visitors. Anyone coming here would go to the main
house first.
It meant the owner of the fist pounding on my door in the dead of
night—and during a storm—had come onto my family’s property
without permission.
Every hair on my body stood at attention with alarm.
“Lilith?” a male voice asked, sounding urgent. “Are you home? It’s
Clay Crandall from next door. I need your help.”
Like the snap of a pair of fingers, the tension in my body shifted
and I couldn’t get my door open fast enough.
He stood on the concrete path with his head tipped down to keep
the worst of the rain from falling into his eyes. He was drenched, and
the water molded his clothes to his body, showing off every perfect
inch of him. Clay was in his late thirties, meaning he was at least ten
years older than I was . . . and exactly the type of guy I preferred.
Jesus, he was so fucking hot. Even with anxiety stricken across his
face.
I stood stock-still with one hand on the doorknob, ignoring the rain
splattering my legs, and gawked at him. Behind his dark-rimmed
glasses, his eyes were the same shade of brown his hair was when wet,
as it currently was. He was fit and toned, and had a body made for sex.
The kind I was sure could turn a smart girl like me stupid.
Which it had, because I hadn’t invited him in to get out of the rain.
I stepped back and gestured inside. “Come on in. What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “No, I—” He struggled to find the words.
“You’re a veterinarian, right?”
“No, I’m a technician.” It wasn’t the first time someone had made
that assumption. I was more like a nurse, who assisted the doctors at
the animal hospital where I worked.
But this answer must have been close enough because he nodded
and backed up, urging me to follow him out into the storm. “I need
your help . . . at my house.
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