Page 26 of Sweet Temptation

And obviously, I’d noticed how handsome he was. The man was eye candy extraordinaire.

But I was in shock, probably.

In a way, I’d barely seen him.

I was only vaguely aware of the light-brown eyes, the lush mouth and broad shoulders, the stoic features etched with concern. His dominating presence, which I might’ve normally found distracting—alluring—was stabilizing. I felt secure in it, despite the fact that he was a stranger, despite the fact that barely half an hour before he’d arrived I’d been terrified to be here, in my own home.

We were alone, me and this security professional… a stranger whose name I couldn’t even remember, the house around us starkly silent when what felt like only moments before it had been swarming with cops. And not long before that, a man had climbed the wall of my house to get to the balcony off my bedroom.

Why?

I felt the chill up my spine despite the heat of the shower washing over me, and I shivered.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture him.

Ronan.

He’d laid a relaxed hand on the bar while we spoke, the cuff of his black button-up shirt rolled and pushed up halfway to his elbow. I’d found myself staring at his fingers. At the wide, smooth nails, neatly trimmed. At the cords of muscle that ran up his forearm beneath the slightly tanned skin, and the hint of a tattoo that disappeared beneath his sleeve. He wore a nice watch and a single ring, but no wedding ring.

There was something incredibly grounding, comforting about the strength in that hand, and his naked, clean skin.

Every time I’d looked up, his eyes were still locked on mine with the same assessing look.

I didn’t know what to do. I’d offered him food, yet I couldn’t even fathom eating.

A man had tried to break into my house.

Possibly worse, it was a man I knew. Sort of.

I took a deep, deep breath and blew it out.

It wasn’t a random break-in, no matter what Ronan had said to try to make me feel better about it. I knew that. Maybe I was kind of in shock about the whole thing, but by the time Brody arrived and started calling it a random break-in, I knew.

It wasn’t random. It was targeted.

And I was the target.

Or… maybe something that Blair knew I owned was the target? Something of value?

Something in the music room or the studio, or my car?

But if that was the case… why try to come in through my bedroom window in the middle of the night?

I shuddered with discomfort and had to shut down that line of thought before I could take it any further.

Yet I kept replaying the events of last night, over and over, in my head…

I kept seeing Blair out my sunroom windows. How he’d stumbled, twisting away from the police dog as it lunged, tackling him right up against the wall.

He’s lucky the dog caught his leather jacket. When they grab on, they don’t let go.

That’s what the police officer standing next to me said.

Then, when I sobbed into my hands, she told me, It’s okay. It’s over now.

But it wasn’t exactly over.

When the police asked me if I had anyone I could call to come over and be with me, I’d calmed down enough to call Ash, but he didn’t answer. It was the middle of the night, so he was probably dead asleep in bed with his girlfriend or ignoring his phone.

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