CHAPTER 9

Until he spoke again, her thoughts wandered. The question, "Who killed him?"

She fixed her gaze on his naked chest, which was gorgeous and had light hair and muscles. Who said that a man's body couldn't be attractive? He had an extraordinarily genuine, lickable, and kissable appearance throughout.

Lucian, I'm not sure who murdered him.

Oh, dear. The shooter ought to have been questioned. Lucian gently warmed her by lowering her top, and then he closed her jacket with the same delicacy. "Who the hell are you, first of all?"

So much for being delicate.

She tried to scream, "Lelandi, and you know who the hell I am," between her teeth, but her voice was too husky. With the exception of gazing at his lovely chest, she could hardly keep her eyes open due to the heavy lids covering them.

What about the rest of him, though? In her visions, he appeared naked, his sculpted body eager to please her in every manner, his corded muscles rippling as he moved. Why was she dressed, too? When she was c