Page 89 of Hunting Pretty

A heat flared between my legs. Could he possibly know I’d liked it that much?

I rounded the corner into the foyer, knife raised, ready to drive the blade through my shadowy figure’s heart.

A familiar yelp sent my knife clattering to the marble floors.

It was not my stalker.

Cormac caught himself against the ornate wooden railing. “Ava, what the actualfuck?”

I clutched at my heart. “I thought you were…”

Never mind who I thought he was.

“What are you doing here?” I stood to full height and fisted my hands onto my hips.

“I wanted to see you, obviously.” Cormac rubbed the space on his chest over his heart. “Didn’t think I’d get greeted by aknife.”

I threw my hands in the air. “If you insist on sneaking up on a girl while she’s home alone, don’t be surprised if you get stabbed in the face.”

He let out a snort as he brushed down his pale-blue Ralph Lauren sweater, as if my startling him caused it to crease. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I glared past him to the closed front door. “How did you even get in?”

Cormac followed my gaze. “It was unlocked.”

I pawed through my recent memories. I thought I hadlocked the front door. Hadn’t I? Surely I wouldn’t have left it unlocked, especially with me at home alone with a frigging stalker prowling around.

Not that a locked door had ever stopped him before.

I glared at my ex, standing there looking sheepish with his hands in the pockets of his cream chinos.

Were his boyish cheeks red from almost being stabbed by a knife? Or was he lying to me?

I swore I’d locked the front door.

But my mind wasn’t exactly reliable. So I couldn’t be sure.

I eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want, Cormac?”

He shot me his famous charming grin, a grin that for some reason never really worked on me. “I have something for you.”

God, if this was some kind of stupid overpriced present in order to convince me to get back together with him, I would throw up.

I aimed for the coffee machine across the kitchen. “Unless it’s a giant double-shot espresso, I don’t want it.”

Cormac stepped into my path. “No, I’m serious. You’ve got to come with me.”

I sidestepped him and managed to get past him.

It was too early to deal with his shit without caffeine.

I pulled out the bag of whole beans that Ebony had imported directly from Colombia and poured it into the machine, the earthy scent of roasted beans calming me. “Give it a rest, Cormac. I’m not getting back together with you.”

He grabbed my arm so hard that it hurt, whirling mearound to face him and crushing me against the edge of the counter.

I let out a cry, dropping the coffee bag, beans spilling all over the edge of the counter and skittering across the marble floor.

I knew Cormac was a dick, but I thought he was a harmless pretty boy dick.

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