Read Online Distorted Hope by Marissa Honeycutt - Free Book Online Page A

were outside, the floors inside were stone, although even and polished. The smooth, stucco walls were bright white, except where rough stone archways stuck out every twenty feet or so.
    Directly across from the entryway, two long, parallel staircases with beautiful wrought-iron railings led up to a landing before doubling back over themselves. A giant, windowed dome loomed high above my head.
    To my right, a wrought-iron and crystal chandelier hung from the beamed ceiling above a large living room with a giant, red oriental rug in the center. Several large black and white photos of desert landscapes hung on the walls between the many windows and doors. An unlit fireplace occupied the far end of the room. The rug had one large seating area on it and several other, smaller, seating areas lined the edges of the room. The furniture was dark, heavy wood and leather. Very masculine. Several men and a few women sat in the room, but one man stood out from the rest. Nathan Pierce.
    Even though I had never met the man, I couldn’t imagine him being anyone else. His presence filled the room and I couldn’t help but stare. Power and confidence radiated from him, even while he appeared relaxed.
    He sat in a large, brown leather chair in an easy manner with his chin resting on one hand, smiling at something the man next to him said. A young woman sat on her heels at his feet and his other hand rested on her head. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he petted the woman’s dark hair, and she seemed to enjoy it.
    His shoulders and arms were broad and muscular under the khaki button-down linen shirt he wore. His face was tanned, as if he spent a good deal of time outside, and he had a dimple in his left cheek. He was clean-shaven and his skin looked satiny in the golden light from above. His ash-brown hair was neatly trimmed in a military-esque style, though longer than I imagined would be allowed in the military. A fair amount of gray showed at his temples. When he smiled, lines appeared next to his eyes. I guessed him to be in his early forties. The only piece of jewelry he wore was a simple, gold band on his left ring finger. Was he married?
    The room became quiet when we entered and Nathan turned to look at us. His gunmetal gray eyes met mine and I blinked, stepping backward slightly from the force of his gaze. His expression remained inscrutable as he studied my face, but it felt as if he were reading my soul. His eyes slowly worked their way down to my feet and if I had closed my eyes, I would have sworn he was touching me.
    When he reached my feet, he turned his eyes to Jason and studied him for a long moment, as well. “So, you are Jason Marshall,” he said. His voice was amazingly deep and silky. There was no hint of an accent, and I assumed he was American.
    Jason looked at him evenly, chin lifting slightly. “I am.”
    A hint of a smile broke Nathan’s stern expression and he stood and walked across the room, his tall frame moving easily across the floor. He was taller than Mark by a few inches, so he had to be almost six and a half feet tall.
    He extended his hand to Jason and they shook in greeting. “I’m glad you came. I am in need of your expertise with a project I recently acquired.”
    “I didn’t really have much of a choice,” Jason said in a dry tone.
    Nathan laughed. “No, my engineers usually don’t. But they find, after a while, it’s an enjoyable place to work. No government interference, no regulations to have to deal with. They just do what we were meant to do: create.”
    “What do you want me to create?”
    “We’ll discuss that in the morning,” Nathan said, waving his hand. “Have you eaten dinner?”
    “We ate on the yacht,” Mark answered. “Neither of them ate much.”
    Nathan nodded. “That’s to be expected. The unknown can be… difficult.” He turned and nodded to a woman who stood behind him with an expectant look on her face. When he nodded, she gave a slight curtsy and