Page 14 of Watch Me Burn

“Looks like it,” I replied, extending a handshake to Anna. She took it firmly, maintaining eye contact that almost hypnotized me with her intense blue gaze.

“Holy smokes, it’s two a.m.!” she exclaimed, checking her phone.

“Damn, I’m not even sure if I have a curfew or something. If I do, I’ve definitely broken it.”

“Sounds like you’re back in your teenage years.”

“Well, that’s what happens when someone falsely sends you to prison,” I retorted. Crap. The way her eyes narrowed and her hand flew to her throat told me I’d said too much. But it was the damn truth!

“You can crash on the couch tonight.”

I almost dropped my empty mug.

“But just to make it clear, I have a gun in my room and I will lock the door.”

I nodded. Smart move. No woman should trust a stranger in her home.

“Fair enough. And thank you. I appreciate it.”

She gave me a curt nod in response.

Springing from her couch, I leaned back as she collected my empty mug and strolled to her kitchen. Fuck. Those tight yoga pants were definitely doing her favors, and I could feel me react to it in ways I really didn’t want to.

“Well, we’ll start looking for clues tomorrow,” she said. “I’m exhausted. And make sure you knock and wait for me to respond before entering my bedroom. I don’t want to shoot you by accident.”

I grinned. “Now that would really suck, wouldn’t it? Out after doing fifteen years for a murder I didn’t commit, just to be shot for a rape I wouldn’t commit.”

She frowned, then threw me a blanket and pillow. “Sleep. Tomorrow, we have a murderer to catch.”

Chapter 6

Anna

When I woke up, the pitter-patter of my shower was echoing from my bathroom.

“What the hell?” I hissed while rolling out of bed. It took a few seconds for me to realize that Ethan was living with me—but not how the hell he got into my en suite washroom.

My legs jerked ahead of me—I began walking, thundering my way toward the washroom door.

BANG BANG BANG!

“Yeah?” Ethan called from inside. I could barely hear him over the fan that must’ve been working overtime for his sweet, hot morning shower.

“‘Yeah’? Seriously?!” I snarled. Placing my hands on hips, I waited for him to dress himself and leave the bathroom so we could discuss what our partnership did and did not include. But he was ahead of me, swinging the door open to a wave of sweltering fog that hit my face.

I squinted through the steam, taking a while to realize that Ethan was still naked—except for the bathrobe around his waist, at least.

I gasped as my gaze traced Ethan’s imposing frame. His body was a stunning display of chiseled muscles, each one more defined than the last.

His skin was a canvas, awash with a sea of intricate tattoos. Tigers were around his strong arms, their glowing eyes seeming almost alive. Viking symbols spread across his broad shoulders, a dance of ink on skin.

A testament to power. A woman’s horny dream.

“You were calling me?” he asked plainly. I hated that I always caught a glint of mischief to his eye, like he performed his antics not because he was unaware but because he was obtusely confident.

Puffing my chest, I cleared my throat to say, “I didn’t hear you enter my room.” I hated how my voice trembled against my façade, how I even faltered to mention he blatantly trespassed into my area of the condo when it was barely dawn. Looking hot as hell.

But I couldn’t think straight through his stupidly ripped body, leaning against the doorframe as if he were a tattooed GQ model.

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