"Just getting home, sweetheart?"
The unexpected voice made her gaze snap toward the corner of the living room. Lounging on the velvet sofa with an infuriatingly casual posture was the last person she wanted to face tonight.
"What the hell are you doing in my house?" Her voice was laced with immediate ice. "Who exactly gave you permission to come over?"
"No one." A slow, dangerous smile played on his lips. "I just came here on a whim."
"I don't need your whims. What's so urgent that you had to trespass into my space right now?"
Instead of answering, he rose from the cushions. Every movement was slow, deliberate, and predatory as he closed the distance between them. He stopped just inches away, towering over her, before tilting his head down to lock his dark, lethal gaze with hers.
"Enjoyed your dinner with that man?"
