Stalked By The Mad Dog Nephew

face. She groaned, rolling over, burying her face in the pillow. For a momen

he smel

co

y, hickory-s

in. She lived alone. She

heets to her chest. Her hea

ing in a velvet armchair he must h

weatpants. He looked infuriatingly casual. He was holding a plate of eggs and b

t scream. She scrambled back against the headboard, her hand closing

she demanded, her voice

plastic card. "Cloned key card. Security h

les white on the lamp. "I'm divo

ctly. Which means yo

and walked t

l, her breath coming in short, contro

he edge of the mattress. "Tell them you

onto the duvet. It b

ne was domestic, but the lo

hungry,"

ds on the mattress on either side of her legs. The mattress

y fr

dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "The pen my lawyer left on the table? It was a microphone.

htly. Of course. He had bugged the roo

everything, Avery. The tracker I p

who knows what you really are. You

g like you,"

id, his voice dropping to a

She kicked him squ

laughing. He looked del

, turning toward the do

eaving the bedro