Burn With Me Read Free

child, she used to watch the neighbors walk by her house from her favorite spot on the roof, studying their mannerisms and creating stories about their day in her head. Wishing she could join them.
    She forced herself to focus on the here and now.
    There were a few stragglers in their group who hadn’t exited yet. One couple in particular drew her gaze. A man and woman dressed in matching trench coats that were obviously brand new. Americans then, since tourists from her neck of the woods wouldn’t have expected a cold snap on a late August evening. The woman’s hair was dyed a color that reminded her of a blueberry milkshake and she had enough ear piercings to make Aziza’s look prudish by comparison. The man was more wholesome. Buttoned up. Opposites in love. They were lifting up a camera phone to take a smiling picture of themselves for posterity before sharing a kiss.
    An older gentleman of indeterminate age with bushy eyebrows and a leathery face locked in a perpetual scowl walked out just ahead of her, blocking the couple from her view and mumbling underneath his breath. He held a walking stick more for show or out of habit than necessity, since he wasn’t showing any signs of a limp, and was followed by a child who must have been his grandson. The boy, no more than nine, had platinum hair and a serious expression in his large, dark eyes that made her think of a few horror movies she wished she’d avoided.
    He was watching her. Was that it? Her feeling? He was giving her the creeps, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. She smiled at him but he didn’t respond in any way. He didn’t even blink or look away once she’d caught him in the act. Weird. She’d thought children liked her, but then, she didn’t have that much experience. Kids reminded her of cats. You always had the sneaking suspicion that they knew something you didn’t and they believed it made them superior.
    She stuck out her tongue, hoping none of the adults nearby would notice. That got his attention. His eyes widened—not much—just enough to let her see his reaction. Gotcha , she snickered to herself.
    “Thank you!” Penn cried. “You see, Gregory? This is how a proper English gentleman behaves. Jot it down.”
    Her delighted pronouncement caused Aziza to tear her gaze away from the odd child and abandon the search for her secret admirer. One quick glance up at the specimen Penn had been referring to—the one holding the door for them—and she was actually concerned she might drool in public for the first time.
    Speaking of people-watching…could she ever make up a story about him. A story that would be too X-rated to publish. One she wouldn’t want to let anyone else read anyway because it was her fantasy, damn it, and she’d never liked to share.
    If this was an average English gentleman, she should have come here sooner.
    Mr. Darcy, eat your heart out. Yes, he had that brooding brow and a strong square jaw, though the latter was covered with a dark, closely trimmed beard that would scrape across her skin in a way that made her shiver. He wasn’t meant for repressed but meaningful eye contact in a sitting room. Not this mountain.
    Broader of shoulder and taller than Greg by a head, he seemed too big to fit through the door he held open. Too rough to be this polite. And far too wild to be dressed in such a restrictive, though obviously expensive way, with his button-down white shirt, tailored gray slacks and a silk tie loose around his thick neck. She had a sudden desire to add seeing him naked to her bucket list.
    She glanced down quickly, instinctively trying to hide her reaction, and was immediately struck by how massive and muscular his thighs were. Muscle that seemed to strain against the tasteful fabric. Muscle she wanted to test and measure with her now twitching fingertips. Or press against her heating body. It was his fault. He was so warm . It radiated off his skin and reached out, along with his scent, to