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πΌ π€πππ‘ππ ππ’π‘ ππ π‘βπ πππππ πππ π’πππ₯ππππ‘ππππ¦ πππ‘ ππ¦ π€ππ β,
ππππ¦ ππ‘’π π€πππ π π‘βππ πΌ ππ£ππ πππ’ππ βππ£π ππππππππ.
πΌ’π£π ππππ ππππππ ππ π‘π π‘βπ πΌπππ β.
π΄π ππππππππ ππππππππ ππ π‘βπ ππππ ππ ππππππππ.
πΌ βππ£π ππ πβππππ.
ππ¦ πππ‘βππ π€πππ ππππ ππ ππ πΌ ππππ’π π.
πΌπ π‘π€π π βπππ‘ π€ππππ , πΆπππππ π πππ π€πππ ππππππ ππ¦ βπ’π ππππ.
πβπ ππ’π‘βπππ π πΌπππ βπππ π‘βππππ‘πππ ππ¦ ππππππ π’ππ πππ πππ‘ππ₯ππππ‘ππ ππ¦ π πππ ππ .
π»π ππππππ πππ‘π ππ£πππ¦π‘βπππ πΌ βππ‘π ππ π‘βππ π€ππππ π¦ππ‘ π π’πππππ ππ¦ ππππππ π‘ ππππ£ππππ .
πΌ πππ’π‘ ππ ππππ βππ.
πβπ π€πππ π‘ ππππ‘ ππ , πΌ’π πππ‘ π π’ππ πΌ π€πππ‘ π‘π.
π΅ππππ’π π ππ¦ ππππ ππ ππ ππππππ, πππ πΆπππππ πππ¦ ππ π‘βπ ππππ¦ πππ π€βπ πππ π ππ£π ππ.
π¨ π πππ πππππππ ππππ ππ πππ ππππππ, πΊπππππ π½πππ πππ πππ ππ ππππππππ πππ πππππππππ πππ ππππππ.
π©ππ ππ πππ ππππ ππππ πππ ππππππππππ πππ π ππππππ ππππ ππππ π ππππππππππ πππππππ ππππ πππππ,
ππππ πππππππ ππ ππππππ ππππππππ ππππππππ πππππππ ππππ πππππππ ππππ πππππ πππππππ!
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His cool stare held me captive, eyes inches from mine. “Is your father going to be a problem?”
My lips parted in surprise.
I’d expected innuendo and manipulation. Such a direct line of questioning hit at the very heart of my worries and unsteadied me.
I shook my head and tried to dart beneath his arm. Conner wedged his body in front of the door, blocking my path completely and bringing us chest to chest. I sucked in a shock of air, then narrowed my eyes defensively.
He wasn’t remotely unsettled by my display of irritation. If anything, his intensity only darkened further in the dimly lit basement hallway—a villainous storm threatening to crumble me to my foundations.
“Protective is one thing. I get the sense this is more, and I think I ought to know if it’s going to be a problem.” His eyes narrowed a fraction, the difference between tension and savage ferocity in one tiny twitch of a muscle. “He ever hurt you?” The words were deadly calm.
Oh God. Why was he doing this?
He needed to stop asking questions, and I needed to stop thinking his questions meant he cared. This was all probably about control and power, not me. I had to shut it down. Now. The best way to accomplish that was not to look like a scared little girl.
Taking a small step back, I opened my clutch and pulled out a pen, then took his hand in mine, palm up. It’s so much wider than I expected. Rough and solid muscle. Hands that knew hard work, like squeezing the life out of an enemy.
I mentally scolded myself to focus and wrote two letters across the full surface of his palm.
NO.
Releasing him, I peered up in challenge. Conner stepped forward, placing his leg between my thighs and swiveling us until my back was against the wall next to the door. I didn’t squirm or respond, knowing I couldn’t show doubt or weakness if I was going to shut down his questions.
“Not so fragile as they implied, are you?” he purred above me.
I took his tie in my hand, pulling him slowly lower until our noses almost touched, and shook my head slowly side to side. His hands came to rest on either side of my head as he brought his cheek to mine, his hint of stubble creating a delicious friction against my skin.
“Good, because I’m not remotely gentle.” The words were a black promise, raw and demanding and utterly intoxicating.
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Read the First Chapter HERE!
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Jill is a Texan, born and raised. She manages the hectic social calendars for her three active children and occasionally spends an evening with her dashing husband. Aside from being an author and a mom, she's a travel junkie and loves to read when she is not lost in her own stories.
With Jill’s books, you can count on confident heroines, plenty of steamy tension, and deliciously assertive leading men. There are no guarantees in life, but with her books, you know everything will work out in the end. However, a perfect ending would not be nearly as satisfying without a seemingly insurmountable challenge. Jill loves to add plenty of adversity in her stories, creating unforgettably dynamic characters and sneaky plot twists you will never see coming.
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