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Her skin prickling in awareness, she glanced up from her book. Her stomach did an annoying little flip of excitement, and her cat went from languid to alert in a second flat.
Alex.
Quickly boxing up that excitement and wrapping metaphorical duck-tape around it, she asked, “Tell me, how would you feel if I just breezed into your home without an invitation?”
Leaning against the doorjamb, he lifted his brows slightly. “Well, it’s you, so I can’t say it would bother me.”
Well, it’s you? What did that even mean?
His gaze slowly and boldly raked over her, taking in her black silk pajamas and bare feet. Her pulse quickened under his intense, blatant perusal. And shit, had her nipples just pebbled? Fuck, they had.
Her cat stretched, preening like an idiot, enjoying his attention.
Bree twisted the lever at the side of the recliner to straighten it. “So, you’re back from checking out Marino and his agency?” she asked, somehow keeping her tone level despite feeling flustered by the rising sexual tension.
His eyes snapped back to hers, gleaming with something that made her stomach twist. “Yes.” His nostrils flared. “You’ve been painting again. You finished off the walls in the third bedroom yet?”
And how, exactly, had he known that she was in the middle of painting them? Bree plopped her book on the arm of the recliner. “You went nosing through my house when you were here last night, didn’t you?”
“I had to do something while I waited for you to wake up. I was surprised by the … interesting toys … you have in your nightstand.” He pushed away from the doorjamb and then headed down the hallway.
Fighting a blush, Bree followed him into the cozy, contemporary kitchen. She sighed as he started peeking through her cupboards. “I take it you’re here to share what Marino told you.”
“You hungry?”
“What? No.”
He tossed a bag of beef jerky on the island and then slid onto one of the stools.
She frowned. “I have beef jerky?”
He grunted. “You’re looking a lot better than you did earlier.”
“I’m feeling a lot better. So, Marino?” she prompted.
Alex tore open the bag of jerky with his teeth. “He didn’t tell us anything. Couldn’t. He was already dead when we got there.”
She blinked. “Dead?”
“Yes.” In between bites of jerky, Alex told her about the sight he’d found on entering the agency. “We paid each of his employees a visit. None know the name of the mysterious client, so we can’t confirm it was the hyena. It’s highly probable that it was him, though. Just as it’s highly probable that he’ll make another attempt to get his hands on you.”
She raked a hand through her hair. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes following the movement of her fingers. Rising from the stool, he tossed the empty bag of jerky into the trash can and then started rooting through her fridge.
“I appreciate you coming to tell me.” She didn’t add, “You can go now,” but it was right there in her voice. Did he leave? No. Which was mega inconvenient, because she couldn’t be around him and not think of sex.
Having him in her home, taking up her space like he belonged there, sucking the air right out of the kitchen—and looking far too delicious while he did so—was not good for her sense of equilibrium. Especially while all those pheromones and dominant vibes he gave off wreaked havoc on her feminine parts.
“So, anyway, you should—” Bree paused at the sound of knuckles rapping on the front door. Great.
Letting out a heavy breath, she strolled down the hallway and looked through the peephole. Calvin. Opening the front door, she smiled. “Hi.”
His grin was all charm. “Hey. Thought I’d stop by and see how you were.”
“Thanks,” she said, stepping aside to let him pass.
“I was here last night, but you were out of it.”
She shrugged. “Tranquilizers will do that to a girl.”
His grin widened. “They will. But you look good for someone who—” He froze only one step into the hallway as he spotted Alex leaning against the kitchen countertop, his cell phone in one hand and a carton of orange juice in the other … looking right at home.
Calvin’s mouth went tight. “Alex.” His voice always took on a hard edge when he spoke of or to the wolverine; they’d never gotten along, for some reason.
Alex briefly flicked his gaze from his phone to the visitor and grunted.
And that was pretty much how the cousins always greeted each other. If you could call it a greeting.
“Want coffee?” she asked Calvin.
“No. I won’t stay. I just wanted to see how you were. And, of course, keep you company for a while if need be. But I see you have that covered.” His eyes cut to Alex and hardened, but the wolverine was chugging back juice while reading something on his phone, paying Calvin no attention.
