My home

"Hello?", I called back, and a muffled groan answered me from the other side of the nearest door. I followed the noise and found a man sitting on a couch, his head in his hands.

"Dean Harper?", I pronounced his name as if it were a question, but of course I was fucking him. I had seen him many times at La Fresh Blood .

He looked up and opened his eyes wide. He paled and covered his mouth with his hand. "I didn't think you'd come."

He turned away from me until he was almost at the edge of the couch, and fear radiated from him, turning the air in the room thick and cloying.

I pushed some dirty glasses away from a low little table and set the paperwork down so he could see it. He staggered a little and his face paled even more.

"What's wrong?" A voice spoke from the doorway, and I didn't even need to turn to know it was the woman whose scent seemed to have become part of my DNA, impossible as it was.

"I called Arthur . I'm Arthur Hollow . We need your help .  Harper's voice trembled, but I shook my head.

I hadn't received those messages, except for the brief mentions . "That's not why I'm here."

I'll try all over again. "There are some things I need to explain to you, Amara." Her gaze pleaded with the woman I hadn't yet looked at, and I stood rigid as I tried not to look at her. "I've made a mistake," she whispered.

"You've made a lot of mistakes, Dad," said Amara (her name was Amara ) "But what did you do this time?"

"I used the house. " Harper closed her eyes and groaned, "I used the house and the bar as collateral. I wanted... I wanted Mr. Hollow to extend me credit, but it looks like he's come to collect the debt.

I nodded, clicked my tongue, and shook my head slowly. "Ah, Dean, " I said, trying to look like I was considering a problem when I had already planned my next move. "I've come to collect what you owe me, but I may have a more favorable solution."

"Whatever. " He almost reached for me as desperation lit up his bloodshot eyes.

I spread the paperwork out on the table and then drew his attention to the relevant sub-clause. "Do you remember what you added?"

He looked at me with wide eyes as he slowly shook his head. "Not that," he whispered.

I nodded. "Ah, yes, you have something of great value that I would love."

I looked over my shoulder and allowed myself a small smile at Amara's surprise when she met my gaze.

AMARA

OMG! Those gray eyes, that fleshy mouth. I would recognize those lips anywhere. I could still feel them on my own mouth. I reached up and put a finger to my mouth for a moment as the memory washed over me, and Arthur Hollow's pupils dilated as he watched the movement.

My skin heated as I remembered dreams that had ended with me tangled in my sheets, strange thoughts of this man's tongue skating over my skin still echoed in my mind.

But at that moment, fury eclipsed sexual desire, repressing any mad impulse I might have had to sleep with him. No. Now, I wanted to karate-chop him in the throat or knee him really hard in the balls.

What the hell? The man who had infused me with uncontrolled awareness and desire, stealing my self-control and making me want to forget myself, had just shown up at my house.

Apparently to take me home. I shook my head and looked up the once ornate staircase. Maybe I was still asleep. Dreaming. Something.

"Dad?" It wasn't very much of my life that I hesitated; taking care of Dad and Pour House had taught me that I had to be serious or no one would take me seriously, but I couldn't help the hesitant tone in my voice. "What is it?"

"Miss Harper " The man who didn't belong there stood up and offered him his hand I'm Arthur Hollow

"So my father said. " I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes, though the French pronunciation he gave his name sent a surge of excitement through me.

After a moment of discomfort that I was determined not to make any more bearable Arthur Hollw withdrew his hand and sat down, taking the papers he had left for Dad. "Here are all the terms. Your father has accumulated a considerable debt on La Fresh Blood.."

I gasped. I recognized the name of the casino, but there was something strangely erotic about the phrase uttered by Arthur Hollow . I headed across the room because there was something magnetic about him, and I clearly needed to avoid his lure.

Dad held his head in his hands, not holding my gaze, and I swallowed saliva to counteract the knot of anxiety lodged in my throat.

"How much, Dad?" my voice came out low, but not because I had put it that way on purpose. Because fear had taken over my vocal cords, and it was the only thing I could say.

Dad shook his head and groaned.

I asked him again, aware of Arthur Hollow's gaze on me, as if he were marking my skin, but I dared not look at him. As many times as I asked Dad how much I owed, I wasn't sure I really wanted to know.

But the casino owner cleared his throat. "It's a huge amount, well over a hundred thousand dollars." There was no real compassion in his harsh words. Just a statement of fact as my knees wavered and I rested my palm on the wall as he continued in that same haunting, serious tone. "These legal documents allow me to take possession of this building..."

"My home," I whispered as pain squeezed my chest.