Burn With Me by R. G. Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

of its own. Had poured into her wound and burrowed beneath her skin like a living thing. What if it hadn’t been sand? Words like virus and nano-assassins were echoing in her head when she heard the slow, obvious footsteps that went along with the oddly sweet melody of the whistler. It definitely wasn’t Greg.
    “Greg?”
    It didn’t hurt to hope.
    The man who came walking around the fig tree near her hidden nook beyond the archway was not Greg and he wasn’t her dream lover—but he wasn’t a stranger either. Her sexy, stalking giant. Again. Did the universe have it in for her? Was it trying to send her around the bend?
    Her body, which had cooled considerably since her previous partner disappeared, came to life with a heated blast that nearly knocked her over. She licked her lips and put her hands behind her back.
    Just in case that part had been real.
    He slid his own hands into the pockets of his blue jeans and she noticed he was dressed more the way she imagined he should have been last night. A little bit biker, with a dash of bounty hunter. Sexy as hell. His black T-shirt revealed a partial sleeve of beautiful and intricate tribal-style tattoos covering his left biceps. Tattoos on top of bulging muscles, just as the good Lord intended. She licked her lips, continuing her inventory. His jeans and boots were still expensive, but well-worn, telling her that this was who he was.
    She really wished she were dreaming, because this would be the perfect time for round two of the best fantasy ever. It wasn’t slutty if it was a dream, right?
    Each minute they stared at each other in silence seemed to crawl by, letting her know it was definitely not a continuation of her fantasy. Her giant was very real, close enough to touch, and he still didn’t seem up for talking…or any other style of communication. Could he talk? She was starting to wonder.
    The thick, expectant feel of the quiet made her restless, nervous, but she had to force herself to break it. “Did you happen to see the man I was with last night when you walked in? He stopped to grab lunch for us. He should be here any minute.”
    Wonderful. Now she sounded like a scared rabbit. She wasn’t afraid of him. Much. 
    You should be , her inner voice shook. There’s something different about him. You can sense it. He’s dangerous.
    More dangerous than the dream man who’d just seduced her in broad daylight? She found that hard to believe.
    But you aren’t sure.
    The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. Was that his version of a smile? It made her desperate to make him her pet project. She could devote an entire bucket list to his lips alone. To making him smile with them and…other things.
    He shifted, drawing her attention back to his eyes. “I didn’t, no. But a woman came in as I did, carrying a book and a thermos. I believe she intends to linger. Your friend isn’t here? I was certain I heard at least two voices.”
    She blushed. “It’s this garden. I heard voices too.” And felt fingers and lips and teeth, among other things. “Maybe it’s haunted.”
    “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
    God, his voice was just as delicious as the rest of him. A hint of English, of course, though not as pronounced as Penn’s and laced with traces of a different accent, as if English wasn’t his native tongue. Gravel wrapped in velvet. Elegant but rough. A sensual contradiction.
    Up close in the daylight he was more breathtaking than she remembered. So wide and broad and tall he made her feel delicate. Feminine. She could see his eyes now. The eyes she’d been wondering about, wishing she’d seen last night. They were a rare combination of gold and brown. The color of sunlight glowing through amber. They darkened as she studied them, as if her attention was affecting his mood.
    If only he spoke more often and didn’t appear to be stalking her in the shadows he’d be the perfect man.
    She rocked back and forth on her heels, wanting to know more about him