Burned Deep (Burned 1)

My pulse raged. My chest heaved. Within seconds he had me in a golf cart speeding toward the main building.

“There was water leaking down the wall,” I told him.

He got on his own radio and relayed the information. By the time we reached the lobby, it was reported to him that the flames were out and they’d never gotten high enough to cause much damage or—thankfully—set off the sprinklers. I thought of all that media equipment and the extreme expense of replacing it and breathed a sigh of relief.

“So, what happened?” I asked, still reeling.

“Just a leak from one of the pipes.”

His normally stoic features appeared uncharacteristically tense. I studied him a few moments before he directed me to the bank of elevators.

He said, “I’ll escort you upstairs. Why don’t you stick close to your office this afternoon? You look a little pale.”

I pulled in a few deep breaths, then told him, “The door was stuck. I think the humidity made the wood swell.”

“I’ll look into it.”

Why did that sound so … cryptic? Like he didn’t believe that had been the cause of the jammed door?

He walked with me to my office. I swiped my badge and entered. He asked, “Are you okay?”

“Sure. That was just a little…” Terrifying. “Unexpected.”

“There are bound to be some mishaps here and there, while we work out all the kinks and get everything running smoothly. Lots of trial and error before the grand opening.”

“I get it. This is a huge project. Lots of bumps in the road.”

Though I found it hard to shrug off the fact that I’d almost been trapped in a room about to go up in flames.

“Why don’t you sit for a while, have some cold water?” he suggested. “Get your color back.”

“Good idea.” I gave him a weak smile. I was still jittery, still breathing heavily.

“If you decide to check out the sights again, let me know. I’ll take you around.”

“Amano. You have plenty to do. No need to babysit me. It was a fluke and I’m okay. In fact, it’d be all right with me if you didn’t mention this to Mr. Bax.”

His brow crooked—a total as if look crossed his face.

“Right,” I grumbled. “Wishful thinking on my part.”

“Let me know if you plan to leave the building.” He disappeared.

I would have spent the rest of the afternoon dreading the big deal Dane would make of this except that he called less than ten minutes later.

“Why didn’t you tell me what happened?” he asked—demanded? I couldn’t tell. He sounded worried, angry, a

nd irritated all at once.

“I had a feeling you’d hear about it from Amano within two seconds of him leaving my office.”

“I did.”

“So, you have the full scoop. What else was I going to disturb your day to say?”

“Naturally, I want to know about any issues with the hotel,” he informed me in a tight voice. “Especially when they involve an employee.”

I ventured to ask, “And when that employee is me…?”