Page 41 of Auctioned to the Devil

I stop breathing.

Scars cross his back and disappear around his ribs. One long scar cuts over his shoulder. Another marks his side.

He checks the deadbolt.

Once.

Then again.

“Caleb?”

He turns instantly.

The rifle lowers.

“What are you doing up?”

“I heard you.”

“Go back to bed.”

“Was someone outside?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“Checked.”

“You check the locks every night?”

“Yes.”

“Twice?”

His expression doesn’t change.

“Yes.”

I descend another step.

His gaze drops.

I realize I’m wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and underwear.

His jaw tightens and then his eyes come back to mine.

“Bedroom.”

I fold my arms. “Stop ordering me around.”

“Emily.”

“What?”

His voice lowers.

“You’re standing on my stairs half naked while I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman.”