Storm Warning - By Kadi Dillon Page 0,13

fumed, kicking and clawing at whatever she could.

“You said there was nothing I could do about it,” he explained calmly. “And you’re wrong.”

“Put me—oh, oh!”

He threw her over his shoulder and started walking to the hotel. He clamped his arm around the back of her knees when she bucked. She squirmed, but he carried her—butt in the air—up a staircase, through a hall, and into the elevator.

She balled up her fist and starting pounding on his lower back. He didn’t budge.

“I mean it! Put me down!” She growled, low and furious.

The elevator dinged and Gabe strolled out into the hallway. He had her key in his hand ready to unlock her door. He dipped his head to Billy, who was standing in his doorway with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Oh, you are going to pay for this!” she warned whoever would listen. “I swear to God!”

Gabe unlocked her door and strolled in, kicking the door shut behind him.

“I mean it, Gabe! Put me down, right now!”

He plopped her down unceremoniously on the bed. She scrambled to her knees, but Gabe shoved her back down on the bed.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded, her chest heaving in pure fury.

“You know who I am, Tory.” He tossed her key on a dresser. “And if you think for one minute that you’re sleeping in the truck, just remember this. I can and I will haul your stubborn ass back up here again and again. Hell, maybe you’ll just stay in my room and save me the trouble.” He made another grab for her, but she threw herself out of his reach.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Fine. You stay in here or I’ll lock you in my room. Your choice.”

With that, he strolled out of the room.

He nodded at all of the smiling faces, keeping his own expression placid as he unlocked the door to his own room. Once inside, Gabe sank down on his California-King bed and laughed. He had never been so barbaric as to carry a screeching woman to where he wanted her, but he had to admit that with this particular woman, he enjoyed it immensely.

He couldn’t sleep that night. The clock on his nightstand told him it was nearly one o’clock in the morning.

Restless, Gabe opened his laptop and transferred all his files from his camera to the hard drive. Pictures of the rolling planes of Nebraska and Kansas flashed on the screen as one by one they were saved one by one into various folders. He was amazed by the shots he had taken so far. Nothing special, he mused. Unless you were there to feel the wind whooshing and hear the birds singing. Then, there were the stories behind those photographs.

On film, the planes looked like flat fields. Sure they were beautiful, but nothing beat being there, watching the wheat dance and shine. Tory’s photo came up and Gabe pressed pause, freezing it on the screen. He had snapped a picture of her after laying her down in her hotel room the previous night.

It was an unprofessional picture with terrible lighting, but she looked absolutely stunning. Her glorious hair was spread out on the pillow. There were no lines between her brows to show her stubborn defiance or anger.

Her face was smooth and angelic in sleep. There was something about that face that took his breath away. And when she slept, she was gorgeous. Her lips were full and generous. In her sleep, they were pale and slightly parted.

And he knew what they tasted like—wanted to taste them again and again.

Gabe shook his head to clear it, clicked continue, and her photo vanished from the screen. It left the room feeling oddly empty.

“Get a hold on yourself, man.” He picked his coffee cup up to drain it, groaning when he found it empty. He checked the pot, it was empty as well.

“Damn.” He grabbed his jacket. Since it was too late for room service, he figured he could purchase decent coffee at the gas station down the road. Besides, he thought bleakly, a nice long walk might help to ease his sexual frustration.

He walked out the main entrance and turned toward the gas station. A low, sexy and familiar voice had him stopping in his tracks. Lounging on the deck of the hotel was Tory. Her hair was down and curled at the ends as it hung over the patio chair she sat in. Her feet were propped up on the table in front of