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I didn’t get to finish the word because he was pulling a charging cord out of his front pocket.

“Cam?” I asked.

I got a nod to that. “Cam. He was… exacting,” the driver said with a wicked little smile that said that what Cam actually was, was a pain in the ass. Which was exactly what he needed to be at times to work for me.

“That sounds like him,” I said, blinking at the sudden stinging in my eyes. I may not have a lot of close people in my life, and sure, I had to pay Cam, but he was one of the good ones. I was lucky to have him.

As soon as I settled in the back of the car, I realized just how lucky.

Because not only had he arranged for me to have a charger for my watch, but there was a whole bag in the back full of little supplies he knew I’d appreciate.

Hand sanitizing wipes, which I promptly used all over my hands, neck, and even my face to hold me over until I could have a proper full body scrub in my own shower. There was a bottle of my favorite iced tea, some little packs of cookies and chips, a nail file and clipper, a hairbrush and jaw clip, and a tin of strong mints.

Over the hour-long ride back to the city, I used every single thing in that basket, reminding me again how invaluable Cam was to my life, even if it did feel a bit strange that he hadn’t shown up to pick me up himself.

“Thank you so much,” I said, passing the driver a big tip from the basket that Cam had supplied as well, because people were less likely to talk crap about the psych hospital they’d picked you up from if you’d been good to them, grabbed my bags, and climbed out of the car.

“Miss Coulter. Been wondering where you’d been,” Frank, my doorman, said as he held open the door for me.

“Oh, just a little long-weekend getaway,” I lied, giving him the best smile I could given how crappy I felt.

“You needed it.”

With just a couple more pleasantries, I was finally in my private elevator and heading up to my floor.

I just wanted a shower to scrub off the institution. Then a bath to calm my frazzled nerves. Some real food. A glass of wine. And sleep that wasn’t interrupted by flashlights or some ranting and raving from fellow patients.

As soon as I got in the door, I dropped all my stuff on the floor, so intent on the shower that I couldn’t even be bothered to put them on the table I had just for my bag and packages.

I was so distracted by the thoughts of my shower, in fact, that I missed him until I was a solid five feet into my apartment.

But there he was.

With his back to me, standing there looking out at the city.

“Whoever you are, get out of my apartment before I call the police.”

There was force behind my words. Not because I was feeling particularly strong right then, but because fear made me angry. And every woman knew that a strange, uninvited man in her apartment was absolutely something to be afraid of.

He turned then.

Not quickly.

Not like my threat concerned him at all.

I don’t know what I’d been expecting. But the hottest guy I’d ever seen was certainly not it.

He was tall and a compact sort of fit. Something about that body and the way he was holding himself screamed “ex-military” to me. His hair was short and a medium-blond. From across the room, it was impossible to tell what color his eyes were, but I could tell that they were dark.

But, damn, yeah, that bone structure.

God certainly favored him.

“Miss Coulter,” he greeted me in a voice that had no right to be as smooth and sexy as it was coming from the lips of a man in my home without being invited. I mean, there was a little wobbling in my knees at the sound of my name in that voice.

“Who the hell are you?” I demanded, reaching over toward a table at my side, closing my hand around the only hard object I found there.

Was it a priceless antique statue of a war goddess?


Tags: Jessica Gadziala Romance