A Smile as Sweet as Poison Read Online Free PDF

accompanied the thought. She hadn’t mastered the art of feeling as though she belonged in their home yet. Knowing she was here only temporarily, until the other shoe dropped, meant she hadn’t put too much thought into how she fit with Dylan and Ward.
    The soles of her rundown sneakers stuck to the buffed floorboards. Was there a more fitting metaphor? Hazel wrinkled her nose and put her shoulder into closing and locking the front door.
    “Ah, there you are.”
    She spun around, recognizing the voice halfway through a gasp. “Dylan! Fuck .”
    “Sorry… Didn’t mean to scare you.” He put up his hands in a placating gesture as he approached. “I saw the car.”
    “So you left your door open? You’re just asking to be burglarized…” A fact of life where she lived, but maybe not a guarantee on Aulden Way. The once derelict warehouses and factories that flanked the wide street now sold for seven figures as development opportunities for the yuppie crowd. Hard-edged, metal-and-mortar lofts were in high demand these days.
    Dylan pecked her lightly on the lips. “I’ve got you to protect me, don’t I?”
    It was the sort of innocuous tease that would’ve elicited a chuckle and an eye roll on a good day. This was not a good day.
    Gently but firmly, Hazel pulled back. “Okay if I grab a shower? I came straight from work.” She hated herself for lying, but dulled the self-flagellation with the certitude that it was better than the truth.
    Dylan nodded. “Sure… Want me to wash your back?” His cheeks dimpled handsomely when he smiled, something boyish and faintly endearing in his expression. It was hard to reconcile this version of Dylan with the man who seemed to take such pleasure in bending her over his knee.
    A curl of delight arced through Hazel. “I’m good,” she murmured. “But if you wanted to leave out the collar…”
    She hadn’t worn it since the night of his return from Shanghai. The same night that she took the leap and decided to embrace whatever this strange, convoluted tug of attraction turned out to be. It had been Ward’s idea. He liked obvious markers of his control over her. Dylan had obliged him. They were exceptionally good at matching and refining each other’s ideas.
    Hazel rose up on tiptoes and brushed her lips to Dylan’s. “Ward told you I’m spending the night?”
    Ward had no idea that was the case.
    “Glad to hear it,” Dylan purred. He tightened his hold around her waist when she made to retreat, the muscles in his forearms drawn into sharp relief as he pressed her close. “I’ll get dinner going.”
    “Awesome.” She trembled when released and didn’t know if it was to do with Dylan’s touch or her lingering remorse.
    The bedroom door allowed for some measure of breathing room, though Hazel left it slightly ajar. It was Dylan’s room, after all. She could hardly bar him from entering. The bathroom door had a lock.
    Hazel toyed with the thought of turning it. Don’t be ridiculous, she mouthed to her reflection in the wide mirror above the sink.
    Hefting her backpack to the floor, she undressed hastily and stepped beneath the spray. The loft had all the amenities of a luxury hotel room without the risk of being interrupted by housekeeping. It still struck Hazel as somehow unfair to indulge. She tried not to linger too much under the ceiling-mounted showerhead, no matter how welcome the warm water felt on her tired shoulders.
    Once the steam dissipated some and only a few rivulets of condensation still clung to the mirror, Hazel saw herself clearly. She had pinned up her hair before she’d come, so her neck was bare and easy to grab a hold of. Beads of water pooled in the oblique slant of her collarbones and clung to her breasts. She examined herself with a critical eye. She’d never qualified as big-chested. Her hips were too wide, her waist too straight—she looked more pear-shaped than hourglass. Short of thrusting herself into girdles and corsets, she had