White Hot (Hidden Legacy, #2)

by Ilona Andrews

She loved me so much, in spite of my faults, and I was the luckiest man alive because when I opened my eyes in the morning, I saw her next to me.

The hallway compacted like an aluminum can flattened by pressure and suddenly I was airborne. I hurtled through the air, straight at Mad Rogan. Fate threw us at each other. I could never tell Grandma.

“You have some strange fantasies, Rogan. You may need professional help.” “Would you like to volunteer?”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m the first. It only matters that I’ll be the last.”

“There is no such thing as closure,” I told him. “It never goes away. But it gets duller with treatment and time. Talking about it helps.”

“And now that I’m conveniently here, you decide to give it another shot. Is there a shortage of attractive women in your life, Connor?” “There is a shortage of you in my life,” he said.

Rogan’s phone chimed. “Yes, I want your bullshit.”

“Would spending an evening with me be such a terrible thing?” he asked. The sincerity in his voice stopped me in my tracks. The witty replies died. “No.”

It’s not much, but if Bug puts together possible ice mage candidates, I can look at them. He smiled at me.” “Smiled?” Rogan said, his face dark. “I’ll remember that.”

“When we talk about the deceased, we usually mention whom they left behind,” I explained.

It’s almost as if the dead have no value unless we know that someone they are related to is still alive and mourning them.

Rogan looked back at me. “Why me? Why not you?” “Cornelius is a stay-at-home dad,” I said. “She views men as caretakers. Usually he probably holds the cat, but he wasn’t available.”

Some men seduced by words, others with gifts. Connor Rogan seduced by simply looking. The sad thing was he wasn’t even trying.

And if anyone tries to interrupt your sleep and end your life, you have my word that they’ll sleep forever.”

Mad Rogan in his off mode. All of his titles—Prime, war hero, billionaire, major, butcher, scourge—lay at his feet, discarded. Only Connor remained, and he was so unbearably sexy.

There are times in life when sugar turns into medicine. This was one of those times.

There was time before Dad got sick and then there was time after he died. Between that lay awful memories I was trying to forget in self-defense.

“Good,” he said. “You’re catching on. This is the world you’re walking into. It’s a place that requires people like me, capable of doing evil things so people they love survive.”

“Dogs will die to protect their owners without a moment’s hesitation. Cats have to be convinced it’s their problem.”

“Did you send me the books?” I asked quietly. “Yes.”

“If you don’t survive, none of this is worth it to me. I love you.”

“She and I are immune. She is our sister. We already love her as much as we can.”