Turn on a Dime - Blane's Turn by Tiffany Snow Read Free Book Online

she’d fallen asleep. The streetlights cast an orange fluorescent glow on her face every few seconds.
    A warmth spread from Blane’s stomach outward. She trusted him enough to sleep, knowing he’d get her home safe and sound. Even when he pulled into her parking lot and turned off the car, she still slept.
    The opportunity to observe her undetected was irresistible to Blane. He moved close to her, studying her in the faint light.
    She was beautiful, in a classic, elegant way. He took in the arch of her brows, the delicate tilt of her nose and full lips, parted a fraction in sleep. Her hair tumbled in waves over her shoulders and Blane’s fingers itched to touch it. This close, he could smell her perfume again.
    Blane hadn’t ever felt drawn to a woman, not like this. Appreciating the shape of a woman enough to take her on a date or two and fuck her was different. This was deeper, like something inside recognized a kindred spirit and wanted to latch on.
    Before he realized what he was doing, his palm was cupping the velvety softness of her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone.
    This was bad. Very, very bad.
    Her bleary eyes fluttered open while he was touching her, and he froze.
    Awareness struck and she jerked upright. Blane’s hand fell away.
    “Sorry I fell asleep,” she said breathlessly. “Thanks for the ride.” She practically fell out of the car in her haste to get away.
    “I’ll walk you,” Blane offered, though he didn’t consider it optional.
    Watching her hips gently sway as she walked up the stairs made Blane feel like a horny teenager, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were riveted to her ass until they reached the top floor of her two-story building. She walked toward the door on the left which was also the closest to the street.
    Blane glanced around, taking in the scene. His arousal was forgotten as he assessed her apartment’s location and probability of being breached. The second floor was better than the first, but there were bushes and trees planted next to the building and stairs, giving a possible haven to criminals out to do her harm.
    He didn’t like that. Not a bit.
    She unlocked the door and turned to face him. Obviously an invite to come inside would not be forthcoming. Blane looked over her head into the darkened apartment, wishing there was a light on so he could see inside.
    “Do you live alone?” he asked. He was worried about her safety, that was all.
    Right.
    “Yes.”
    She’d begun nervously fiddling with her keys, the metal jangling loud in the night.
    “What are you going to do about your car?” Blane asked. She might not remember, but she had no transportation.
    “I guess I’ll call a tow truck,” she replied with a shrug.
    “Do you have any family here?” Maybe she had a brother who looked after her, kept her car running, and made sure men like Blane didn’t get too close. But she shook her head.
    “Boyfriend?”
    Negative, Ghostrider.
    This was going from bad to worse. She had no one to take care of her, and no one to protect her from . . . him.
    Blane moved closer, forcing Kathleen to tip her head back to look at him. Her eyes widened and her keys jangled faster. Blane hid a smile. Closing his hand over hers, he stilled the keys. The pulse at the base of her throat was beating wildly. Blane reached up, doing what he’d wanted to do in the car, and traced a long lock of her hair, curling its soft wave around his finger. He could swear she stopped breathing for a moment.
    “I’ll take care of it,” he said.
    “Take care of what?” she breathed, her gaze dropping to Blane’s mouth.
    He nearly groaned. The urge to kiss her, back her into her apartment and show her how very, very well he could take care of her, was nearly overpowering.
    But instead, he smiled. She was his employee. She was off-limits. He could no more sleep with her than he could sleep with his sister, if he had one. Blane reached for his sadly-lacking control.
    “Your car,” he