Chapter 44

• Freya swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth. His crisp white dress shirt rolled up his elbows, his tan and muscular forearms with the veins snaking down to his big hands, and the carved, severe expression on his face-so sharp it could nick and make Freya bleed to death with a glare alone.
• "You're making Victoria sit at your dry cleaners for hours on end and watch them clean your clothes?" Freya seethed.
• A toxic grin spread over his face. "I'm guessing by your reaction that you inherited the vexing task."