Married To My Mysterious Ex-Con Husband

piece of napkin that was currently d

Then she looked at the st

ng black paint and a fresh tag of

bleach, a chemical cocktail tha

iled, the sound vibrating through the

ked down

hed lace bodice and cascading tulle skirt, took

. A cruel, ex

or in a sterile room in Manhattan, her

the door of a man she had never met. A man her fathe

violently. Acid cl

ira. Do i

ckles were white, the skin s

knoc

instantly swallowed by the heavy bass of rap

wa

th

f he wasn't here? What if he had taken th

she knew the wire transfer to the hospit

the stale air and hammered

Bang

oor!" Her v

le

sliding back. The metal screech was

was rip

couldn't. Her heels were roo

doorway blocked out the

as h

andsome, or scary, or a stranger. Just that h

t wearin

ck with a sheen of sweat

from his left shoulder down across his p

that should h

ust low-slung gray sweatpants that

ed down

but a black so deep they seemed

cold, flat assessment. Like a wolf deciding if the

are

n her chest more than she heard with her ear

ry. Her tongue fe

. I'm

arriage license inside. Her hand was

a Jac

at her hand, then let his gaze travel up the length of

ticked up. It wasn't a

n, but Keira felt a flicker of something cold in his eyes. H

ope from her hand. Hi

ugh. Calloused.

flin

rrowed, sharpening int

and swung the

h mock politeness. "Are you coming in,

both hands, lifting it away from the grime of t

The sound vibrated through the flo

as tr

herself to

was small. C

the pigsty she

e it had been salvaged from a dumpster, and a

as no trash

r was sw

esence entirely. He went to a small r

tic bottle of water

ack and drained half

work. She watched the way his back m

owerful.

was a brawler. A thug who

im now, Keir

is hip against the counter. He crossed his arms ov

ared

ed at t

etched, thick a

st her ribs so hard she thoug

d. "You're t

rising in her throat. "

t was a dry,

ht.

counter and took

tching on the hem of her dress. She stumbled, g

sto

ripping the leather. Th

d to. Keira was practi

The word was a com

er bottle into a recycl

at they told you

e he was tasting it

touch things

heading toward a clo

't want a

l blanket from the back of t

hest. It smelled like him.

his chin toward the door. "Lock it if it

clutching the scrat

nt..." Keira couldn'

s neck, rubbing the tension there. He

usted. And cold. S

. Before I change my m

t need to b

oom door, her dress rustling

lf inside and s

ith the lock, sliding

against the wood and

r knees, trying to get he

ut. I

safe. Fo

door, in the dark livin

t on the ruined sof

ed his lungs,

k, heavily customized smartphone that looked milit

hed in

ainy green feed from the camera

ad follo

ty room, the name tasting like ash

the closed

ell her perfume.

ng to be a