Her Only Salvation by J.C. Valentine Page B

back here. The bed was huge, probably a king, and was topped with a luxurious duvet and matching pillows that looked like he had taken them straight from a magazine. When she looked up, she found that even the ceiling was painted in a charcoal grey that matched the linens and drapes, making the room somehow cozier instead of oppressive. As if that wasn’t enough, there was an en suite that made her stifle a gasp. The room was dominated by soft-black slate tiles that extended into the shower where glass doors provided a seamless transition. Bright-white double sinks and shiny stainless fixtures gave the room a sleek, modern feel. Terri felt like she had just stepped into a luxury hotel.
    “Do you like?” Luke asked, placing her bags on the foot of the bed. “I put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into that room, but I think it turned out. Just don’t look too closely at the corners. Oddly enough, power tools and I don’t get along well.”
    Terri jerked her head around in surprise. “Seriously? That’s incredible.” She turned back to the bathroom, appreciating it through new eyes. “I feel like I’m on vacation or something,” she said, coming back into the room to join him.
    “Well, I don’t know about a vacation. No room service.” He grimaced. “But I hear the chef is amazing with an omelet, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
    Terri didn’t know what to say, except thank you. She had expected nothing more than a couch to rest her head for a couple nights, not an open invitation to a place that already felt more like a home than her own house.
    “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then,” Luke said, backing out the door.
    Terri couldn’t resist making the small jab. “What? You’re not even going to check behind the shower curtains or under the bed before you leave?”
    Turning, Luke passed her an easy smile. “I don’t need to. You’re safe here, Terri. I’d defy anything to get past these walls.” Then Luke left her to get settled in and make herself comfortable.
    Terri collapsed onto the bed and took in her new surroundings. Here, she felt safe and secure, sheltered from the storm brewing outside. Here, she could almost forget that she had any worries, or that her soon-to-be ex-husband was probably out to kill her, or at the very least make her life a living hell. Here, Terri could relax, and she would be forever grateful to Luke for making that possible.
    Doing her level best to ignore the warm feeling blooming in the center of her chest, Terri unzipped one of the bags and got to work finding a place for all of her things. When she finished with that chore, which took her no time at all, she fumbled with what to do with herself next. As if to answer her unspoken question, her stomach growled loudly.
    Venturing into the kitchen, she pulled up short and willed herself into the shadows as she watched the scene play out before her.
    Luke, in nothing but a pair of low slung exercise shorts, moved around the kitchen, pulled out an oversized pan, and set it on the stove. He poured a bit of oil inside, swirled it around and set the flame to high. Pivoting around, he opened the fridge, thought about his next move, then pulled out a container, a bottle filled with brown liquid, and a selection of vegetables.
    Emptying one of the containers into the pan, Luke turned his attention to the vegetables and started chopping them. Terri leaned against the wall, watching raptly.  She had never seen a man so at home in a kitchen before. 
    Then his deep, rumbling voice split through her daydream like the crack of a whip.
    “If you’re going to watch, you might as well help,” he said without looking up.
    Surprised and somewhat chagrined, Terri strode to his side with a false air of confidence. “What do you want me to do?” she asked, glancing at the sizzling pan, which held a mound of white rice.
    “Can you cook?”
    “Sometimes.”
    Luke snorted. “What can you cook