Stronger Than Sin Read Online Free Page B

story would matter little.
    Jesse tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. It made the T-shirt he wore ride up, exposing a line of lean muscle
     and sandy blond hair that matched the color on his head, although those shaggy locks had sun-kissed streaks of a lighter shade.
     She dragged her gaze back up to his face—a very handsome one—and found him considering her with his blue-eyed gaze.
    “Why don’t you sit down so we can get started,” she said and motioned to the sofa.
    He plopped down onto the overstuffed cushions, his long legs spread-eagled before him.
    She sidestepped one muscled thigh, perched on the edge of the low, espresso-colored wood coffee table, placed her bag beside
     her and opened it. She was removing her stethoscope and blood-pressure apparatus when he asked, “Is that how you got this
     gig? Your sister-in-law?”
    “Gig? As in, being your physician?” She slipped the stethoscope over her neck and juggled the blood-pressure cuff in her hand
     as she waited for his explanation.
    He shrugged shoulders so broad that it looked like he still had on his football pads. “Well, you look a little young.”
    “Not that I should have to explain, but I’m thirty and was currently working on my orthopedic surgery specialty.”
    “Was? As in, you’re not now?” he pressed, mimicking her earlier statement.
    “Now I’m supposed to give you priority according to Special Agent Whittaker and my hospital administrator.” She grabbed hold
     of the large hand he had resting on his thigh and pulled his arm toward her. As she did so, she eyed the roughness along his
     knuckles and back of his hand.
    She ran her fingers along his skin gently, but he jerked his hand away, brought it close to his chest, and rubbed it.
    “Football injury?” she asked.
    That intense blue-eyed gaze, the same color as the ocean outside the windows, zeroed in on her again. “What did Whittaker
     tell you about me?”
    “Not much. Actually, nothing that I didn’t already know from the news reports,” she admitted.
    He dragged a hand through his shaggy blond hair and looked away. “And what would that be, Dr…. What was your name again?”
    “Carrera. Dr. Carrera.”
    “So, Doctor. Tell me what you know,” he said, the tone of his voice growing harsh.
    “Award-winning college player. Top draft pick. MVP, I think. Hell-raiser. Playboy. Degenerative bone disease that put an end
     to your career,” Liliana recited and watched his face harden with each word she uttered.
    “Seems you already know all about me, Dr. Doctor—”
    “Liliana,” she corrected in annoyance.
    “Liliana. How about we get this over with so you can go back to your hospital and forget about me,” he said and stuck out
     his arm.
    Liliana wasted no time in getting all his vital stats and drawing the blood samples she would need for Carmen to analyze.
     Much like Caterina’s blood, Bradford’s glowedas it was exposed to the light, but the phosphorescence was duller and not as prevalent as with her sister-in-law.
    After she was done, she rose, expecting him to walk her to the door, but he just sat there, muscled arms spread across the
     back of the sofa. An icy chill in his gaze communicated more than any words could.
    “I’ll be back,” she said and left the house.
    Jesse watched her go, relieved by her absence. He’d had enough preaching from his father about the sins of his ways. He didn’t
     need the prim little doctor reminding him about how he had managed to screw up his life.
    As he had before, the heat of rage pooled within him, only this time, he let it grow until it needed physical release.
    Surging from the sofa, he stalked through his house to the gym in one of the back rooms. Throwing himself onto one of the
     benches, he started pressing weights. One hundred pounds. Two hundred.
    It wasn’t enough. He racked the pin into the bottom-most notch and pressed upward, jerking the weight up and down as if it
     was light as a