Page 21 of Vicious Temptation

He tuts under his breath. “She’s not a friend. Never met her before today.”

I glance over my shoulder, annoyed by the flicker of relief that hits me at his answer.

At least he’s not reckless enough to bring someone who can’t handle a firearm to a gun range.

When we reach my office, I turn to face him and finally get a better look at the blood running down his arm.

“Are you sure that’s just a graze?”

“It’s a gnarly one, but mostly superficial.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face, which makes me question whether he’s lost his mind, because he barely seems bothered by the fact that a bullet just tore through his arm.

“As long as you don’t bleed all over my floor.”

Thiago follows me through the office and into the connected bathroom. It’s not the biggest space to begin with, and having someone his size in here makes it feel a hell of a lot smaller.

“Sit,” I say, nodding toward the toilet.

He does, and I reach for the first-aid supplies beneath the sink as I finally ask the question that’s been nagging at me since I saw him downstairs.

“So what are you doing here anyway?” I straighten and look at him. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“You weren’t the only one surprised back there. You work here?”

Of all the ranges in Philadelphia, he expects me to believe he stumbled into mine by coincidence. I’m not buying it, but calling bullshit now won’t tell me why he’s really here.

“What do you think?” I ask, blotting the blood from his arm with a wet towel.

He hisses when I press a little harder. “I think you’re enjoying this.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Take your shirt off.”

Thiago stills, and a smirk pulls at his mouth as his eyes meet mine. “That’s twice now you’ve asked me to strip.”

“Yeah, well, don’t flatter yourself. Both times were extenuating circumstances.”

He tugs the T-shirt over his head and balls it up. I try to focus on his wound, but the man looks damn good without a shirt, and fuck if he doesn’t smell good, too.

“Better?”

I can feel his gaze on me as I clean the graze and reach for the skin glue.

“Just hold still and give me your arm.”

It’s only then that I realize I’m standing between his legs. There’s barely any space between us, and when I look up, he’s already watching me, but I turn my attention back to his arm and finish sealing the wound.

“We have something you can wear downstairs. I might not carry your size, but it’s better than a bloody shirt.”

“Well, I might have to take you up on that offer.”

“Good. That’ll be $24.99 plus tax.”

He tips his head back and laughs. “No discount, huh? Not even because I was shot?”

“Exactly because you got shot. You probably did bleed all over my floors and let a bullet punch a hole through my wall.”

His laughter fills the small bathroom. “Oh, so you’d rather it had lodged inside me instead? That’s cold, Remi.”