Burn for Me (Hidden Legacy #1)

by Ilona Andrews

Breath caught in my throat. I quashed the urge to stretch against that phantom touch like a cat. “Do it again, and I will hurt you.” The phantom touch slowly melted away and part of me wanted to follow, wherever it was going.

“Did you want something more maneuverable for the city?” I asked. Not that there was anything wrong with the Range Rover. “Yes. You never know, we might encounter squirrels.” The Audi slid into traffic. “We should have sex.” I must’ve misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

🤭🤭🤭🤣🤣🤣🤣

“We’re both consenting adults. Why wouldn’t we have sex?” Because you’re dangerous as hell, you scare me, and because it would be mind-blowingly good. Which would mean I would want more and more and I really, really can’t afford to fall in love with you. “Because we don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Do you know what I want? I want a human connection. I want to be in bed with someone who is worth being with.” “And I’m not?” A dangerous intensity crept into his voice. I might have pushed things a little too far.

“You are the man who kidnapped me, chained me in his basement, and almost strangled a woman he barely met because he found her annoying. That’s your resume.” Okay, that probably wasn’t entirely fair, but I owed him for the car stunt. “I realize that this is strange for you, because ninety-nine percent of the time, your name, your body, and your money do the trick and women fall over with their legs spread if you look at them for longer than ten seconds. I’m not one of those women.” I got out of the car and started across the parking lot. He caught up with me. I risked a glance at his face. Mad Rogan was smiling. Something I said must’ve been really funny. “Do I have any redeeming qualities?” he asked. A charming, self-deprecating dragon. No, not buying it. That charm could tear in a split second, and then there would be flame and sharp teeth. “Not running over the squirrel was in your favor.” “Mhm. Good to know.” He smiled wider. Uh-oh. “Don’t do it.” “Don’t do what?” “Every time you smile like that, someone dies. If you attack me, I will defend myself.” “Of all the many interesting things I’m thinking of doing to you, killing you or hurting you is not on the list.” He winked at me.

So, remember when I was upset Adam wasn’t the MMC…I was wrong and am woman enough to admit that 😂😂😂

Duh. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. I plan to hold them hostage until you sleep with me.” I stumbled. He turned and gave me a brilliant, impossibly handsome smile. “Just kidding.” Damn it.

I’d upgraded my firepower. I was turning into Dirty Harry.

“I’m sorry, I have to take care of some business. It can’t wait, but I’ll keep it short.” “Not a problem. I’ll busy myself with being seen and tossing my hair. Would you like me to twirl it on my finger while biting my lip?” “Could you?” “No, sorry.” I grinned at him. “Tease,” he said, and my mind went right into the gutter.

Girl 😂😂😂

“I’m worth one point two billion.” I choked on my tea.

Oh to be worth 1.2B

“Yes. Most things are not a challenge.” He leaned forward, focusing on me. “When I find a challenge, I devote myself to it.”

If the clouds split open and an archangel descended onto the street in all of his heavenly glory and tried to make Rogan see reason, he would fail miserably and have to pack up his flaming sword and go back to Heaven in shame.

😂😂💀 what a clown I love him

“This is almost the same argument, word for word, Leon used last year after he decided it would be a grand idea to ride his bike down the stairs.” “It’s a perfectly good argument.” Mad Rogan bristled. “What’s wrong with it?” “Leon is sixteen. You’re almost twice his age.”

“Are you implying that I am elderly and decrepit?” “I’m implying that you should know better.

Haha again, CLOWN

“Maybe I should drive,” Troy said. “She knows what she’s doing,” Mad Rogan said. I sniffed. “What?” “The fragrance of a genuine compliment from Mad Rogan. So rare and sweet.”

She looked at Mad Rogan. “What did you do?” Mad Rogan opened his mouth. She turned to me. “What did he do?” “He got hit by a car,” I said. The woman pivoted back to Mad Rogan. “Why in the world would you do a stupid thing like that?” Mad Rogan opened his mouth again to say something. “Don’t you have an army of badasses to keep this exact thing from happening?” “I . . .” The woman turned to me. “What kind of car was it?” “An armored Escalade,” I said. “Well, at least it was a nice car.”

“At least it was a nice car hahahahha

“I can . . .” Mad Rogan started. She pointed to a stretcher. “Down.” I felt the distinct urge to do whatever she said and do it quickly.

“He will live,” she said. Oh drat.

😂💀🤡

So if you do anything to hurt him, I will put a bullet in your brain.”

Very matter of fact. I like it. Picasso.

“Yes, I’m sure, Augustine,” Mad Rogan said into the phone. “He didn’t caress my cheek softly with his calloused fingers, but I saw a male hand.”

If he ever fell in love—which probably wasn’t possible, given that he was likely a psychopath—his would be the kind of devotion people fantasized about.

You know what? No: if he ever fell in love, it wouldn’t be great romantic devotion. It would be an exercise in frustration and lust, and at the end of it his significant other would strangle him.

He covered my hand with his. I felt the heat of his hand, the texture of his fingers, and excitement shot through me, an apprehensive thrill, part hope, part alarm. His other arm braced me. Oh my God. Where did all of the air go?

“You melted.” A male, self-satisfied smile touched his lips. “Like spring snow.”

My fingers closed about something hard. I tossed it at his face. The chalk hit him square in the forehead. He blinked.

Comedic timing is ✨

His gaze searched my eyes. “Speak to me.” “I hate you.” “Okay.” Mad Rogan let go of me. “You’re fine.”

Rogan glanced at him. “It’s your party. You’re wearing the tiara. Try to be a gracious host.”

Mad Rogan slipped it off and passed it to me. “Hold this for a second.” He leaned over Adam’s prone body and shook him by his shoulder. “Hey, buddy.” Adam’s eyes opened. “Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Sit up.” Rogan helped him up, a smile on his lips. “You okay? Everything working as intended?” Adam stared at him, confused. “Sure.” “You know who you are?” “Adam Pierce.” “You know what happened here?” “Yeah.” Adam got to his feet. “I burned it down.” “And you’re not hurt? Nothing’s broken?” “No.” “Oh good.” Mad Rogan sank a vicious punch into Adam’s jaw. Adam fell to his knees, his mouth bloody. “How about now, Adam? Anything hurt now?” Adam surged from his feet and swung at Rogan. His fist whistled by Rogan’s face. Mad Rogan hammered a punch into Adam’s gut with his left hand, while his right landed a hook to Adam’s face. Adam went down. “Have some more.” Rogan punched him again, hard, his fist like a sledgehammer. Adam threw his arms in front of his face. “You whiny little piece of shit,” Rogan growled. Another punch. “We don’t kill civilians. We don’t show off in public and scare people.” Another punch. “We don’t abuse our power, you fucking asshole. You’re a disgrace.” “Rogan! That’s enough.” I grabbed him and pulled him off Adam. Adam rolled to his hands and knees. I kicked him as hard as I could right in the stomach. He fell and curled into a ball. “You almost killed my grandmother. You used kids to deliver a bomb to my house.” I kicked him again. “Flirt with me n...

I snorted This whole exchange is fully hilarious 😂

Well. A visit from the dragon. Never good.

Did you plan on walking in here, picking me up, and carrying me away like you’re an officer and I’m a factory worker in an old movie?”

“Aww, young love, so passionate,” Grandma said. “I’m going to buy you a subscription to Brides magazine. You should start shopping for dresses.”