Teddy Bear Sir (The Sloan Brothers Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

events unfolded, a few things became abundantly clear.  Tony Marconi was quite possible a psychopath with nothing to lose, and no one but myself suspected that his compulsive disorder now included Melody on a major scale.
    Had he firebombed Austin’s bar?  Probably.  Had he threatened and then almost killed Melody?  Without a doubt.  Had she given as good as she got?  Absolutely.  This, in my opinion, fueled his need for revenge on a major scale.  Melody had bested him twice and I believed the second time, she’d left permanent scars both physically and mentally.
    Here’s “the thing”.  If he’d gone to an emergency room with his injury, there would have been a record that he could have fallen back on in a court of law.  He could have argued that she had consented to the tryst, as evidenced by her willingness to accompany him to his hotel room.  There was no struggle and he had witnesses.  He could argue that in the heat of the moment, she’d gone off the rails and injured him.  He could have pressed charges and destroyed her reputation.  His revenge would have been complete.  Instead, he’d stayed hidden, thus bolstering her assertions that in fact SHE had been the injured party.  She’d had the surgeries, the scars, and the photos to prove it.  She’d made it known that should he be found, she would indeed be pressing charges.  The die was cast.
     
    I’ve brought you up to speed but for one thing.  My ongoing relationship with Miss Ayla Warren.
    From the moment she moved in, there was dissention in the ranks.  Although I insisted that she call me Pierce, she continually called me, Sir.  After attempting to correct her on several occasions, I began to think that she was doing it on purpose to wrankle me.  Finally, I surrendered the point and allowed it to continue.
    The first night, I gave her a tour of the Penthouse and told her to make herself at home.  I deposited her suitcase in one of the guestrooms and went into the kitchen to fix us both a drink and to allow her some privacy to unpack and settle in.
    I waited close to forty-five minutes before I began to be concerned.  The place was large, but easy to navigate so I knew that getting lost was close to impossible.  I left our drinks on the bar and started down the hallway to investigate.
     
    My first stop was the guestroom where I’d left her.  There were no signs of her anywhere.  It was as if she’d never stepped foot into the room.  I stepped back into the hall and paused to listen, hoping for a clue as to her whereabouts.
    It was while I was standing there that I heard it.  A familiar sound coming from of all places, my bedroom.
    I walked the three doors down and stepped inside.  Ayla was in my shower!  I peered around the room, hoping to see something that might explain her actions.  I was a man of reason and assumed there was a logical one for her intrusion into my personal space.  Perhaps she didn’t realize that she had an ensuite bathroom of her own.  Yes, that had to be it.  I would forgive her this one faux pas, correct her misunderstanding, and chalk it up to experience.  We’d laugh about it in the morning, to be sure.
    I walked into my closet, looking for an extra bathrobe I could leave for her in case she had forgotten to bring one in her haste to escape her apartment.  A good host should always be prepared.
    When I turned on the closet light, the first thing I saw was several dresses hanging opposite my suits, squeezed in amongst my dress shirts.  Her shoes were lined up beside my own.  Feeling more than a bit disoriented, I exited the closet and peered around my room with a new set of eyes.  The shower played on as I began to open and close the drawers in my rather large chest and dresser.  Her things were put away with mine.  It was then that I noticed her suitcase standing alone in the corner.  Ayla had moved in with me.  Lock, stock, and garter belts.
    I sat down heavily on my bed, unsure