Eyes on me, he climbed down from the railing, and as he prowled toward me, I backed up a step. Another. Then another. The wall behind me pressed into my spine, while he drew closer and yanked a blade from its holster at his thigh. “As I said, I consider threats to my life an invitation.” The broad side of the blade scratched over the fabric of my robe when he gently dragged it across my tightly contracted stomach. “You ought to be careful how you wield them,” he warned in that rich, baritone voice.
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