Billionaire Ghost Tour - Stephanie Fowers Page 0,5
He’d spent most of his childhood in them before professionals finally stumbled onto his Crohn’s Disease diagnosis. The experience was probably where this Cleisiophobia came from, though he couldn’t guess why it reared its ugly head again. Janson never wanted to see another doctor again, or have anyone look at him with pity like he was weak or wasn’t capable. No, he’d handle this on his own.
Three things he could smell.
The fruity scent of his drink. His cedar and spice deodorant that worked overtime. The smell of Rosa’s lilac perfume. Nothing stopped his racing pulse. His lungs would burn next. He could ignore that, but the choking feeling after that was harder to pretend wasn’t happening. Rosa’s beautiful chocolate brown eyes rose over her book to meet his. A few years ago, he’d met this gorgeous woman in Rome with a heart of gold to match. They’d dated on and off, but nothing really panned out.
“Are you bored?” she asked in a voice that would normally warm him like cider on this crisp October day. He concentrated on the sound and gave her a casual smile in return. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He’d successfully numbed whatever fear he’d felt over the years, but what his body decided to do was a different story—he was in full fight-or-flight mode, as if his organs relived some past trauma without his permission.
Normally he’d go on a jog, but he was stuck... which was his problem. Trapped—always trapped. Sharing the pressure of running a multibillion-dollar Pharma company with his father was smothering him. Hundreds of thousands of employees depended on him making the right move. Though he enjoyed the scientific process, his office felt like it closed in on him—he could only prop open the door so much before his crushing responsibilities weighed him down. He couldn’t run away from those, either, no matter where he went. He concentrated on breathing through his diaphragm to center himself. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he murmured.
“No, no, it is best we get away,” Rosa said in her pretty accent. “We cannot have worry creasing those stunning eyes, now can we? You are much too beautiful for that.”
Janson let out an affronted breath. “Beautiful?”
“Oh?” Her laughter sounded like tinkling bells. “This cannot be a smile I see. You do not smile.” He made a face. Of course he smiled. Everyone smiled. He just didn’t feel like smiling now... or ever. Maybe smirking. “There it is.” She joyfully called him out on his smirk. She threw her long brown hair behind her delicate shoulder. “You look like a crocodile ready to eat me.”
He rested his chin against his hand, watching the mischievous fire light her eyes as she crossed her long legs. Her burnt orange outfit was more ruffles than dress. She reminded him of a waif or a free-spirited nymph—no, an angel. Rosa Young was the sweetest girl in existence. He wasn’t sure why no romance had ever worked out between them, but he was willing to try again. “Maybe I might eat you,” he teased.
“Oh, such a big bad wolf. I am not afraid of you. You have been nothing but sweet to me.”
Was she friend-zoning him? With difficulty, he stopped himself from smirking again. She was getting over her latest breakup and, just like him, needed to get away. That’s why he’d suggested this place. Many of his friends had settled in a picturesque Mountain Cove community in Eureka Springs, but his was only a retreat there. Anything else would be irresponsible. With irritation, he noticed that his lungs were burning now. He needed another coping technique for this panic taking him over.
Two things he could feel.
He took Rosa’s delicate hand, running his palm over her smooth skin. Her beautiful fingers reminded him of the gift he had for her, and he reached into his pocket to pull out a white-gold ring. He ran his fingers down the emerald wings of two jeweled dragonflies, using the grooves of their cool amethyst bodies to ground himself. The ring was part of a set, but Rosa would never accept such an expensive gift in its entirety. He’d barely get away with the ring. He slipped it over her finger, and she gasped. “This is very naughty, Janson,” she chided him. “I should give it back, but I love it too much. Where did you find such a thing?”
“From a silent auction.” His friend Aaron had put on the charity last month. The Murder