“She wasn’t naturally blond, of course, but her other natural assets more than made up for it.” When Coco’s gaze flattened—and her fingers tightened painfully on my shoulder—Beau smirked. “Whatever is wrong, ma chatte? You aren’t . . . jealous?” “You—” I patted her hand, wincing. “I’ll dismember him for you after we’ve finished.” “Slowly?” “Piece by piece.”
