Page 224 of A Vicious Love

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SIENNA

Iwoke to the sound of someone moving. I opened my eyes to see Jamison standing near the open bathroom, shirt unbuttoned, belt loose, black trousers riding low on his hips.

He was turned slightly away, one hand at his waist, the other dragging the belt through. The open-plan bedroom gave him nowhere to hide.

The waistband of his trousers sat beneath the carved line of his stomach, and the belt hung open. I looked at the tattoos running down his ribs and disappearing beneath his shirt.

He turned his head.

I froze.

Jamison Crow smiled.

Smugly.

“Oh,” he said, voice still rough. “Good morning to you too, baby.”

Heat rushed straight into my face.

I pulled the blanket higher, which was ridiculous because he had already seen more of me last night than any blanket could undo. “I was asleep.”

“You’re doing excellent work for someone unconscious.”

“I woke up because you were making noise.”

“My belt offended you?”

“No.”

“Interested you?”

My cheeks burned hotter. “You are impossible.”

His smile widened by the smallest degree, which somehow made everything worse.

I sat up against the pillows and tried to look anywhere except his waist. The bed was still warm from both of us, the sheets twisted from the night, my hair ribbon loose against my neck. My sleep top had slipped slightly off one shoulder. I fixed it quickly.

Jamison noticed that too.

“Why are you awake?” I asked, because questions felt safer than being caught looking at him again.

He fastened his belt with that same maddening calm. “I have an appointment.”

That was when I saw the dresser. More specifically, what sat on it. A black shoulder holster.

Two pistols.

A knife in a sheath.

A narrow case with ammunition arranged so neatly it looked ceremonial.

“Why are there guns?”

Jamison slipped one arm through the holster, then the other, before he pulled the shirt into place. I watched the pistol settle beneath his left arm.

My stomach tightened.