Free Driven By The Hero (Hero Romance 1) by Kalena Lyons Page B

shade was practically porno red. But when she saw Jack’s mouth curl in a sneer of lusty approval as she stepped through their hotel door, she felt validated in her decision.
    As she sucked in the summer breeze, she couldn’t help thinking of where she would have been just two weeks ago; eating ice cream straight from the carton, and debating about mustering the courage to go to a TGIFriday’s where—if she was lucky—she might kill time in a fruitless session of groping with some junior level wealth manager who had one too many Long Island iced teas. She didn’t want to dwell on the past; in fact, every time she thoughtlessly chose to bring up her former life, Jack admonished her—even if it was with nothing more than a stern glance. But as much as she couldn’t help luxuriating in her newly found freedom, she couldn’t help but compare it to her former life. Perhaps we can’t really see the truth about ourselves until we’re wrenched away from it, she thought. Perhaps only thing we can really rely on is change. Perhaps…
    Just then, the headlights of Jack’s Acura cut an arc against the tiled wall. He stepped out in that methodical, assured gait of his, his voice echoing like drops of rain against the cobblestone walkway.
    “Have everything? Anything left behind?”
    Laura looked around her to ensure her luggage was all accounted for. “Everything’s ready,” she replied cheerfully, her eyes glistening at Jack’s practiced smile. She grabbed a handful of satchels and a suitcase, as Jack helped load the remaining luggage in the backseat.
    “There’s always one thing you leave behind,” he continued matter of factly. “Whatever it is, it can always be replaced. If it can’t, you don’t need it after all.”
    He closed the trunk and opened the door for her. She made certain to straighten the folds of her skirt as she sat down, just like he had taught her to when they were driving. He liked to peer up and down her sturdy thighs, flickering dim and soft in the glare of passing streetlights.
    “Shall we take the short way or the scenic route?” he asked as he put the key into the ignition. He smiled inwardly at the slight joke.
    It was a little before 10 in the evening. Laura still had no idea where Jack was taking her.
    “The scenic route,” Laura said, curling her arm in the cradle of Jack’s shoulders as they drove away. Her head felt heavy from the wine and she purred contentedly, drifting off to sleep like she always did on long car trips, ever since she was a child.

CHAPTER TWO
    It was a little after 3 a.m. when they pulled into the driveway of the ranch house. Laura had been sleeping soundly the whole of the five hour drive, so when she awoke in the stillness of nature (after Jack nudged her awake), she was at first bewildered. She had grown so accustomed to the sights and sounds of urban life in Philadelphia over the years that even the brief respite of staying in a seaport tourist town had seemed utterly foreign to her. But now, as she stepped along the loose gravel driveway, in front of the imposing ranch with its dark shutters and stained wood shingles, a mere electric lantern lighting the way, she felt a thousand miles away from civilization -which, for all ostensible purposes, she may as well have been. Jack’s ranch house was located in upstate New York, in the sleepy city of Oneida. Despite the lateness of the hour, Jack seemed alert as ever, helping the groggy and yawning Laura out of the car, where she stretched and gazed up at the night sky. It seemed so austere yet close, as if she could extend her hand and reach the fine points of the stars.
    “Are we in Canada, baby?” she lazily asked Jack, shuffling lazily across the gravel path.
    “Not quite,” he chuckled. “We’re in upstate New York. Not quite home, but a little escape I have. Let’s get inside. It’s freezing out here.”
    He led her across the brick threshold, and unlocked the front door, leading her inside