JOSS: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security) Read Online Free Page A

dark, either. There weren’t a lot of freckles, just smooth, almost creamy skin. And he had a broad jaw and a thin nose that was a little crooked, like it had been broken once. His eyes were a deep green, not as clear as Ash’s or David’s, but a deeper, jeweled color that was unreadable. Broad shoulders and slender hips rounded out a hot body that was hot in a way that was different from the men I worked with on a daily basis. I mean, no one could possibly be as sexy as Kirkland, or as teddy bear like as Donovan. And then there was the eroticism of Ash’s aloofness and David’s angry hands-off attitude. But Carrington was a whole new sort of sexy. The kind that I never thought I’d be drawn to.
    Not that I was all that drawn to it now.
    “A sandwich?” he repeated.
    I shook my head no.
    I gave the garage one more glance, then went back into the kitchen, gesturing toward the archway where we made our initial entrance.
    “You want me to show you around?”
    I shook my head. It was better if I did it on my own. More efficient.
    He just studied my face a long moment, tension in his shoulders that I didn’t quite understand. Then he gestured toward the archway.
    “Help yourself.”
    I wandered through the house, impressed with the décor. But I could also tell how the house was divided into public areas and private ones. The public areas were crisp, clean. The private ones were cozier. There was a playroom toward the back of the first floor that was filled with things little girls love: dollhouses and tea sets and wooden ponies. There were also a few game systems with games scattered around that were both centered on family play and a few of the adult variety. I supposed the daddy was something of a gamer in his spare time.
    There was a study on the first floor that had shelves and shelves of books, both fiction and nonfiction, some of them impressive first editions of rare works. I ran my fingertips reverently over a few spines, impressed with something I could never have afforded to give to someone I once knew, someone who would have given an arm and a leg for just one of these.
    Upstairs, on the second floor, were bedrooms. Three of them were clearly guest rooms. The child’s room was once again filled with a little girl’s dream. A bed covered in a lacy, beautiful canopy. A dressing table covered with pretend makeup and hair clips and scrunchies. Everything was pink and green and the palest blue. Her favorite colors, I supposed. And the master bedroom. It was a sad room, really. No pictures, no real décor. Just a large bed and a closet full of suits.
    The third floor was unused. It looked as though it might have once been some sort of studio. Perhaps for an artist. But whatever it once was, it was just full of dust and decay now.
    I was making my way back down the third floor steps when Carrington came around the corner.
    “I wanted to show you to your room,” he said, his eyes moving to the steps behind me. He clearly wasn’t pleased with my solo tour of the house, but he refrained from saying anything.
    “Here,” he said, pointing to a door beside the front stairs and across the wide landing from the child’s room.
    I debated the benefits of being closer to the child against being close to the stairs. Normally, I would have preferred being as close to the target as possible, even when in separate rooms. But decided since we were on the second floor and the front stairs were the most obvious choice of entry of any potential threat, I decided this room would be adequate.
    The father—Carrington—studied my face as I made my decision.
    “This is going to be very difficult if we don’t find a way to communicate.”
    I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket and held it up, then gestured to him.
    “My phone?”
    I nodded.
    He pulled his out and handed it, almost reluctantly, to me. I dialed my own phone number, waited for my phone to ring, then disconnected the call and handed it back to him. Then I