Meet the characters:
Alex is too perfect, and Sabrina doesn’t think she’ll ever measure up. Unfortunately, she trusted the wrong man once and she’s still spiraling from the aftereffects. When she thinks someone is breaking in, her first call is to Alex. And when a man dies in her arms, things get more complicated and more dangerous.
Alex has his sights set on keeping Sabrina safe and catching the men responsible in dragging her into a crazy murder case.
Feel the passion:
Later that night, they’ve all left for their own places and Alex carries me to the bedroom. The dove-gray walls combined with his royal blue comforter and soft lighting make me feel cozy. It totally suits Alex.
“Do you need help getting undressed?” he asks.
Crap! I’m not sure I’m going to be able to get my T-shirt off. “I might need help with my shirt. Or I can sleep with it on.”
“I’m not going to pounce on you, Bri.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you looking like that?”
“Because I’m black and blue… And…it’s ugly.”
“Nothing ugly about you, baby. Battle scars tell us how far we’ve come. Nothing about that is ugly,” he says, low and sweet. He moves his fingers to the hem of my shirt and carefully lifts it higher, exposing the skin on my belly. Then higher still, where he sees the bruises. They’re dark and purple and not a pretty sight. There’s a tic in his jaw and a flash of anger in his eyes.
Then he does the unexpected and drops kisses over the bruises, so gently that it makes me want to cry. He removes my shirt, leaving me in my leggings. Chloe and I decided that a bra would be too painful.
Feeling very exposed, I cover my breasts.
His voice raw, he asks, “Can you do the rest?”
I nod.
“Good. I’m going to lock down the house. I’ll be back in a bit.” He pulls open a drawer and takes out one of his T-shirts. “This should be loose enough to make it easier for you.” He helps me put it on and leaves me to it.
Grateful for the time alone to compose myself, I wriggle out of my leggings, then grab my pj bottoms and head to the adjoining bathroom. The T-shirt smells like Alex. I love how it feels against my skin.
Leaves you wanting more:
My head aches. I move to touch my temple and find that I can’t. As I become more awake, I know that I’m tied to a chair with my hands bound behind my back and my ankles fastened to the legs of the chair. There’s a blindfold covering my eyes, but I can hear people talking. They’re too far away to make out what they’re saying, but I know I’m not alone.
Panic starts to set in. I’m tied to a fucking chair! Who are these guys? What the hell do they want from me?
“She’s awake,” I hear one of the men say. He has a heavy accent. What is it? Russian? German? They’ve got the wrong girl. It’s a mistake. I’m a mistake.
“I’m not who you think I am,” I blurt out. “You have the wrong girl. I don’t know you.” The words come out fast as I try to make sense of it all.
Suddenly, I feel someone approach. Firm hands grab the arms of the chair. His breath heats my face. I lean back, but I have nowhere to go. I gasp at the harshness of his barked words.
“I know who I have,” snaps the man. His accent is even heavier, his voice deeper, rougher, and less tolerant.
“What— What do you want? I—I didn’t do anything.” I shake my head wildly.
“Do you know why you’re blindfolded?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s for your protection. I’m feeling generous today. If you see my face, I’ll have to kill you.”
I lower my head, simply to ensure I don’t see his face, although the blindfold is so tight, I can’t see a thing. “Please don’t.”
“If you answer my question, perhaps”—he pauses—“I may be persuaded to let you go.” I nod and wait for him to go on. “You came across a man in the alley behind your clinic.”
I gasp. Oh my God, this is the killer.
“I see you are putting two and two together.” He moves closer, his mouth near my ear. “I will not hesitate to end you. That man said something to you. I want to know what he told you.”
“He didn’t—” Instantly, his hand comes around my throat and squeezes. I can’t breathe. As I pass out, I think I’m going to die.
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