Page 6 of Her Property

Even now, possibly dying, Cat cringed.

Concentrate.

She had to get help. She wasn’t sure she could drive like this. But what choice did she have? She had to get this hand looked at, and fast. She stood up, pressing the sweater down once more. Spots appeared at the corners of her eyes.

You can do this, Cat!

Staggering towards the hallway to the stairs, Cat leaned on the bannister with her elbow and slowly began making her way down.

She was nearing the bottom of the stairs, her head finally clearing from moving around, when she heard the rumble of an engine outside. Wildly, she wondered if Alfred had come back. But it was the middle of the week. Besides, this engine sounded louder than Alfred’s smooth-running Porsche. A truck, maybe.

The engine cut off and a door slammed.

Cat stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs as she pictured the neighbor (or whoever it was—she didn’t actually know if the naked man from the lake was the neighbor Alfred was suing) crossing the path to the front steps.

Then footsteps thumped across the porch and a moment later, the person pounded their fists on the heavy mahogany door.

“Hey!” A male voice called. Cat realized the door was unlocked and had a moment of panic—would he barge right in?

She waited a moment for him to bang again, but he didn’t.

“Whoever you are—I just want to talk.”

Cat swallowed. She had to get outside to the car. Her brain was maybe not functioning on all cylinders because she moved forward and opened the door.

“Alfred’s not—” she began, then her words fell away as she took in the man before her.

He wore an open plaid shirt, exposing the entire length of his torso, which was rippled with muscle. A deep, hard V disappeared into the top of his low-slung jeans.

His body was tense. Angry.

His hair still dripped with lake water.

Cat got a flash of him standing on the dock, his elbows high as he slicked back his wet hair, water running freely over his bare skin, down to—

Cat’s cheeks flushed hot. “Who are you?” she asked.

His jaw, which had been clenched when she opened the door but had softened while she stared, tightened again. His nose was ever-so-slightly crooked, like it had been broken and hadn’t quite healed perfectly. There was something about his features that, while not perfectly ordered, had an immense appeal all put together.

“You don’t know?” he said. His voice was deep and made something hot unfurl in the lower part of her belly.

“Why would I know who you are?” she said. “You’re the one hollering in my doorway.”

“Your doorway?” Confusion deepened in the man’s face. “My name’s Jake. Jake Colson. I thought you might be…” He cut himself off. “Are you a friend of Jones?”

Any doubt that this was the man Alfred had warned her to stay away disappeared. It didn’t matter how fit and tall and fuckinggorgeousthis man was, he was the next-door-jerk. Cat folded her arms.

It wasn’t that she was so easily swayed by her boss’s instructions, but if Alfred said he was an asshole who was she not to believe him?

“I don’t need to tell you, but I will: I’m an attorney at Jones and Associates. This is private property, and you need to leave.” There, nothing like a little authority to get this man to get lost. Even though part of her didn’t want him to go anywhere.

A ludicrous, illogical part of her. The blood loss affecting her brain.

God, this hand. She really did need him to go.

Jake Colson’s jaw had gone hard again at the wordproperty.“That’s what I need to talk to Alfred about. Is he here?”

Cat moved for the door, ready to slam it in his face, turn the lock, and get Alfred on the ancient rotary-dial phone. But her hand spiked with pain as it shifted in her bunched up sweater. She bit her cheek, trying to contain the whimper. The cut throbbed.

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