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Wrapped in You (The Monroes 1)

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He brought his gaze back to her. “It’s not raining.”

She lifted a shoulder and smiled. “You never know when it will start. It is spring and all.”

Cringing at her pathetic attempt to get him into her house, Zach gave her the only option available. “I can have a guy over there tomorrow.”

“Oh, I was hoping you would fix it yourself. I’m not sure I trust anybody else.”

Zach gritted his teeth and gripped the edge of his door. No way in hell was he setting foot in her bedroom. She’d probably chain him there and he’d never be heard from again.

“If I didn’t trust my guys, they wouldn’t be working for me.” He had to remain professional, though she seriously tested his patience—and that was on a good day. “I’ll have someone at your place by ten o’clock.”

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something else, but Zach was already in a mood before her visit. Right now it was best he be left alone to his surly mood.

“I’m in the middle of something right now,” he told her, stepping back to close the door. “Nathan will be more than happy to help with your problem.”

She nodded, but her pout remained. “Thank you, Zach. I knew I could count on you.”

“No problem. Good night.”

He closed the door, flicking the dead bolt back into a secure position. The thought of that woman sinking her sparkly red claws into him terrified him. There was a market for fake, processed, teased, perfumed, reconstructed bodies, but Zach wasn’t in that check-out line.

He preferred the type of woman who was a bit more natural, a bit more discrete. A woman who was oblivious to her power, didn’t exploit her assets.

Who knows, maybe Nathan went for that over-the-top type of woman. Either he’d be thrilled or pissed that Zach sent him. Either way, Zach was staying far away from that house and that woman if he could help it.

Cursing as he pounded back up the steps, Zach hated how his newly divorced neighbor was throwing herself at him, and he wasn’t the least bit interested. Zach should want someone like Sherry. He was a man with breath in his lungs and he was turning down her not-so-subtle hint for a booty call.

Most men would call Zach a fool. Perhaps he was, but Miss Bleached and Baked wasn’t doing it for him and there were certain things a man couldn’t fake.

He stepped back into the bathroom, stared at the shower, and let out a sigh. The house was too quiet, and quiet led to thinking, which was not something he wanted to do.

If he started thinking, he’d start planning on things to do with Chelsea’s mansion. That would turn into thinking about talking with his brothers. His brothers who still weren’t on the same page as him and were contemplating Sophie’s proposal. And once again his thoughts would circle back to Sophie.

So, yeah. He needed music, fast and loud, in order to finish this tile project and start planning his attack in regards to the Sunset Lake property.

There had to be a way to keep his sister’s dream alive.

Chapter Four

Later that evening, Sophie tied her robe around her waist, covering the evidence of the surgeries on her hip and abdomen. Hiding the physical marks was the easy part. How did she cover the emotional ones? The scars that cut so deep into her heart they left her crippled in so many ways.

And not that she thought of herself as crippled; her limp and inability to have children weren’t what kept her emotionally scarred. It was the fact that each time she saw the marring on her skin, she thought of Zach, of how he continually punished himself by pushing people away. Maybe he’d come around now, with Chelsea gone. Maybe losing his sister would open his eyes to the fact that life was short.

Damp tendrils of hair clung to her neck from her jasmine bubble bath. Now that she was relaxed, all she wanted to do was crawl into bed with a good book and escape into someone else’s life until she tumbled off into sleep. Many mornings she’d woken with a book still in her hand, or she’d find it had fallen to the floor.

She’d just stepped into the hallway to go through the house to turn off lights when the doorbell rang. Glancing at the clock at the end of the hall, she was surprised anyone would be here this late. Padding down the hallway leading to the foyer, she took in the shape of the figure beyond the etched glass. A little surprised, she flicked the lock and pulled the door open.

“Martin, what are you doing here?”

Still dressed in a suit even though the spring evening was rather warm, he smiled and stepped over the threshold. Sophie eased back, allowing him room, and he shut the door behind him.

“I wanted to apologize for postponing our date again.” He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Forgive me?”

“It’s not a big deal,” she told him. Though she’d hated being put off at the last minute, she was at least used to it. She also refused to sit around and worry over a man. “I know you’re busy. Besides, the free evening gave me a chance to go to Chelsea’s apartment and get some things.


Martin’s brown eyes studied her face. “What on earth did she have that you would want?”



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