Shattered Grace - By K Anne Raines Page 0,26

ashtray, she put the Shelby in reverse and backed out of the parking spot, heading for whatever was waiting for her at the bank.

Ten minutes pacing in front of the bank and Quentin felt like he’d been given a personal tour through the nine circles of hell. The sun was blazing. Heat rippling from the building structures and reflecting off the windows didn’t help matters. However, the heat didn’t compare to the burn of his band or the angst coursing through his veins.

Instinct told him Grace was a little ways out, but he couldn’t bring himself to do any more patrolling around the neighborhood. His feet were heavy, like they were encased in concrete. He couldn’t move. Even though surrounding trees and awnings could provide reprieve from the scorching sun, he stayed where he was…in the middle of the scorching heat from Hades.

It’s a good thing he didn’t sweat much, because he should be looking more than a little parched. Quentin definitely didn’t want her to see him sweat literally or about his guardianship over her. She needed to trust and believe in him and his ability to protect her. In twenty-four hours’ time, his fear would turn bittersweet. He feared failing her, but at the same time looked forward to the role he was destined to play in her life.

The pulsing heat from his seneschal band took his mind off the surrounding temperature, forcing him to focus on his other senses. His hand wrapped around the intricacy of the band’s markings, trying to lessen the throbbing warmth.

She was close.

His gaze swept up and down the street just as the Shelby came around the corner and parked up the road from the bank. Everything seemed to click into slow motion as soon as her door opened. Quentin noticed the strappy white sandals first and the long, slender legs above them second. He knew he should feel guilty for gawking, but deliberately declined the feeling. When she completely emerged from the car, he was blinded by her beauty. It wasn’t just the yellow summer dress she wore perfectly, or the sweep of her lustrous mahogany hair down her back. It was everything that made up Grace. Her beauty shone so brightly that everything else faded into the background; he could see nothing but her as she walked across the street toward him.

Never had he understood more clearly why so many of his brethren had fallen. If any of the Chosen before her were a fraction as beautiful, they too must have been stunning creatures.

She smiled at him as she approached. “Hi.”

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted, loving that she didn’t need to look very far up to see his eyes.

She gazed nervously down at her feet and laughed uncomfortably, making him wish he had kept his Tourette’s tendency to himself. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and he sure as hell didn’t want or need to confuse things between them.

“Thank you,” she finally said, as she lifted her jade-colored eyes again. The blush of her embarrassment only added to her appeal.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just…you look very pretty today.” Lame, he knew, but he hoped that the explanation would cover up his blunder.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s nice to hear sometimes.”

Quentin tore his gaze away from hers, pretending to inspect the door of the bank since he desperately needed a moment to gather his wits. What was he, thirteen? Get a grip, Q, he berated himself silently.

He swung his gaze back to hers and touched her arm. “You ready?” he asked.

“I think so.” He stood immobile as she pivoted toward the door, noticing the backpack he had failed to see before. “Are you coming?” she asked over her shoulder.

“No, I’ll wait here. No one can go into the secure area with you, anyway.”

Grace hesitated for a second. “Uh, okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes then?”

“Definitely,” he promised. He’d wait all day if he had to.

Grace was instantly greeted by the sweet kiss of cool air. Maybe she’d been too quick in telling Quentin she’d see him in a few minutes. Surely she could come up with more reasons to stay in the bank? She loved nothing she owned more than the Shelby, but the car didn’t have air-conditioning. When exceptionally hot days like these came around, she knew that any primping done before getting into the car would be nearly undone before she reached her destination. She definitely didn’t “glow” in heat like this; she wilted.

Days like

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