Page 3 of My Bodyguard Neighbor
"I'll buy my own."Jonah paused at her front door, his hand on the knob.When he looked back at her, the hunger in his gaze was unmistakable."Sweet dreams, Holly."
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving her alone in her kitchen with scattered sugar and a body humming with unsatisfied desire.She sagged against the counter.What the hell had just happened?Ten minutes.That's all it had taken.Ten minutes, and she was ruined.
She'd spent her whole adult life proving she was independent, untouchable, unbought.And now one neighbor with a voice like gravel and eyes like sin had torn down every wall she'd built.
As she knelt to clean up the spilled sugar, she caught herself listening.Straining for sounds from next door.Was he really making coffee?Or had the sugar just been an excuse to get inside, to get closer to her?And if it was—what did he really want?
The questions followed her to bed.She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, the ache between her thighs impossible to ignore.She'd never reacted like this to anyone—never so fast, never so intense.The smart thing would be to stay away, to keep her distance.
But Holly had never been accused of being smart when it came to men.
Through the thin wall, she heard footsteps.Slow.Heavy.Pacing.
Like Jonah couldn't sleep either.
She smiled in the dark, her mind already filled with thoughts of him and his sexy grin that promised things she wasn't sure she was ready to surrender to.
Chapter Two
Holly's brush hoveredover the canvas.She was trying to figure out how best to finish her painting.She'd been up since dawn, unable to sleep after the charged encounter with Jonah.Her body still throbbed with unfulfilled desire, and painting was the only thing that quieted her racing thoughts.
A soft scrape of paper sliding under her door made her frown.Setting down her brush, she moved toward the white envelope on the floor.Her name was written across the front in block letters that made her skin crawl.Creepy.
She stared at it, memories of her father's cases flooding back.Anonymous letters never meant anything good in Judge Reese's world.She'd heard the stories—threats, bribes, attempts at intimidation.But that was supposed to be his problem, not hers.She'd cut ties specifically to avoid this.
Holly's hand trembled as she reached for the envelope.Part of her wanted to leave it there, pretend she hadn't seen it, go back to her painting where the only violence was the slash of color across canvas.But ignoring threats didn't make them disappear.
She tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
You can't hide from your father's sins forever.
The words were cut from magazines and pasted onto plain white paper like something out of a bad movie.Holly read it again, hoping she'd misunderstood, but the message was crystal clear.
"Shit."
She lunged for her door, yanking it open and stumbling into the hallway.Empty.The corridor stretched in both directions with no sign of movement, no sound of retreating footsteps, nothing but the hum of the building's ancient ventilation system.
