Blamed Read Online Free Page B

been pure coincidence, when he’d seen her walk past the shop on the way to her office and waved to her through the glass.
    And all the nights she had sat curled in the cozy armchair in front of her window, staring out across the street instead of focusing on curatorial paperwork, and seeing him quietly staring back at her? Maybe it had been a meet-cute waiting to happen, and her life was less Thriller Drama and more Romantic Comedy. Maybe her neighbor really
was
a normal, handsome, suit-wearing thirty-something: Preston Barnes, Commercial Real Estate Developer, just like the card she’d glimpsed when he’d dropped his wallet one Saturday morning at the nearby Whole Foods.
    Commercial real estate developers, as far as she knew, didn’t make a habit of bleeding out in their bathtubs, or holding a gun on their neighbors. “Neighbor,” she intoned wryly. “How are you this fine evening?”
    He smiled, different from the half-smiles in the coffee shop. The coffee-shop smiles were more a cute twist of firm lips, a flash of humor permitting a dimple to appear in his smooth cheek. This smile, on the other hand, was all white teeth, feral and sharply amused and far more threatening to her peace of mind than the pistol he had pointed between her eyes. “Dandy. Can’t you tell?”
    Surprised to find her gun hand steady—finally—she swept her gaze over him, noting his shiny black dress shoes, tailored charcoal trousers, now-ruined white button-down, and buttery yellow silk necktie, loosened ever so slightly at the unbuttoned collar. He’d obviously been caught unawares by the shooter, his clothing showing all the signs of a businessman just home from a long day at the office. She remembered the jacket on the floor next to the open briefcase. “Rough night?”
    He huffed out a pained laugh, wincing when it affected his wound, and clamped his free hand against his side. “You could say that.” As she allowed him movement, he did the same to her, letting her grip the Beretta in both hands. “Beth, isn’t it?”
    She smirked at his attempt to maintain cover. But her smirk faded when he grimaced again. “You need a doctor, pal.”
    Expression tight, he tilted his head slightly to the side, assessing her with that intelligent blue gaze, and she allowed herself a leisurely look at him for the first time since he’d moved in across the street six months ago, instead of quick, stolen glances. His pale eyes were thickly lashed beneath slashing black brows, the contrast of his neatly trimmed ebony hair against fair skin incredibly striking. He possessed an angular face, with the faintest of hollows beneath its contours, and the sharp lines of his jaw and chin and nose, not to mention the prominent cheekbones, gave him a harsh, masculine beauty. Without a doubt, he was one of the most gorgeous men Beth had ever seen, and the day’s worth of rakish dark stubble only made him more so.
    “I can’t go into an ER with a gunshot wound.” When she merely arched an eyebrow, he gave her a pitying look. As though he expected her to be better at playing this game than she was. “Mandatory reporting.”
    She blinked innocently. “You mean you don’t want the police to look into your shooting tonight? You don’t want your attacker brought to justice?”
Justice.
Now there was a word she hadn’t so much as thought in a year. It made her shiver, and she realized he was right to look at her with pity—she couldn’t play the spy game anymore, too out of practice and out of patience, not tonight and certainly not with him. “I can’t let you bleed to death in your bathtub, Mr. Barnes. It’s undignified.”
    His shoulders rolled in a faint shrug. “This? Just a flesh wound. Relax.”
    That
made her teeth clench. “I’ll relax when you’ve handed me your weapon.”
    He seemed to consider that for a long moment. “Was the rest of the apartment clear?” When she nodded, he sighed. “Good. I thought I heard him go out the