Dancing in a Hurricane Read Online Free Page A

to-do list? Or was it the videos running through her brain every time she closed her eyes. Sixto staring at her, searching deep into her soul. The way he said Briana in the bathroom.
    Every inch of her vibrated with need, she wriggled in her seat, wanting… what? What did she want?
    The stunning link she'd experienced with him couldn't be denied. It resonated within her, and ignoring it would be difficult. But necessary. Not only did he own half the house, but he and Cloe had a history, even though it wasn't a romantic one. She'd keep it friendly, treat him like a brother, and with time, the connection should fade and disappear.
    Yeah, right .
    She looked back at his room. His reaction to her thinking he was a woman made her smile, but it slid from her face. He'd stared at her in frozen shock when she told him she was moving in permanently. She could empathize with his concern. Hopefully, they'd get past the awkward stage. He was remarkably handsome and outrageously sexy, but there was more to him. An intelligent man, talented.
    If only they'd met under different circumstances.
    In her peripheral vision, she saw a light go on in Cloe's office. She stood and stepped closer to the patio door, holding aside the blinds. A small desk lamp was on and someone moved around the room. Fear made her numb, her breath caught. Should she yell for Sixto?
    The intruder sat at the desk and bent to pull something out of a drawer, casting light on his face. It was Sixto. She sat on the arm of the chair and watched, her heartbeat returning to normal. What was he doing? He typed at the computer for a few minutes. The light went off and she watched his room. A minute later his blinds closed and a light snapped on.
    "Hmm." In a few seconds, Sixto's light turned off. She closed the blinds and slipped into bed. Was he telling the truth about him and Cloe being platonic friends and roommates? He'd seemed honest when he answered her question, but something was just not right. She had to be missing clues. With that on her mind, sleep didn't come for a long time
    She woke late the next morning, dug her robe and slippers out of her suitcase, and opened the blinds to a beautiful, clear blue sky. "Hello, Miami!" Stretching, she smiled and squealed. This was her new life. In a town where no one knew her. In Port Angeles, everyone had either babysat her, went to school with her, or worked with her. And absolutely everyone knew the embarrassing story of how she was left standing at the altar. She rubbed her stiff pinky finger, which wasn't as painful as it usually was. "Yes! This is a good sign."
    She practically skipped out of her room, through the dining room and living room area, and into the kitchen. Standing on tiptoe, she looked out the window. No ocean view, but the neighborhood was lush and tropical. An unfamiliar variety of bird sat on one of the lampposts in the yard, a long piece of grass hanging from its mouth. "You're making a new nest? Me, too."
    Bree found the coffee and filters and struggled to work the big, silver espresso machine. When the brew finally started spurting, the smell brought back memories of her parents. Her eyes washed with tears. Was her sister with them right now? She hoped so. She prayed Cloe had changed and become a person worthy of floating on a cloud. The alternative, Cloe standing on brimstone, sadly seemed more likely.
    "Oooh, harsh," she reprimanded herself as she brushed away the moisture from her eyes.
    "The coffee?" Sixto's gravelly voice asked from behind her. He leaned on the counter and stretched his arms up, lifting his worn t-shirt to reveal a nice set of washboard abs. His hands came down in fists to rub his eyes and he yawned loudly.
    "Nope." She smiled, willing away her melancholy. "The coffee smells delicious. I was being harsh and judgmental."
    He smiled back sleepily, his rumpled clothes and messy hair made Bree all cozy inside. She had the indecent urge to sidle up to him and wrap her arms around his