Too Wicked to Keep. Julie Leto

silk that she’d gotten from her mother for her last birthday.

      She kept the lights off, her ear tuned for any sound of Daniel moving around her apartment, maybe looking through her things, trying to find some clue about her current life that he could use to his advantage.

      He could look all he wanted—he wouldn’t find much. When she’d moved out of the brownstone she’d shared with Marshall, she’d left most of her possessions behind. The house had belonged to his family and most of the furnishings had been theirs, too. Shamed by her behavior before the wedding, she’d wrapped herself up in his world, in his things. When he died, she realized how much of herself she’d lost.

      Once she’d started to come out of the fog of sadness, she’d decided to get her own place. She’d ignored her mother’s offer to pay for an interior designer, opting instead to fill the apartment herself with furniture and knickknacks that she’d picked out on her own. Even the cats were new, adopted from a shelter. She still had a few things to remind her of Marshall—like the T-shirt he used to wear to bed that she kept in a tissue-lined box in her closet—but mostly, this places was hers and hers alone.

      But now, Daniel was here. In her life. In her home. Was he still in her heart, too?

      She reached behind to undo the zipper of her dress and nearly jumped out of her skin when her hand met his.

      “Here, let me.”

      She moved to step away, but stopped. She couldn’t keep running. She’d found Daniel not only so he could help her retrieve her grandmother’s painting, but also so she could face his part in her crazy past and put it to rest. If she couldn’t endure his touch, how would she ever prove to herself that he no longer held sway over her heart, body or soul?