Sinner (The Hades Squad #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

shade of pink-red on the color spectrum. How could a woman who traveled with whips and cuffs blush so innocently?
    “I like to cook.” She ducked her head. “I took—am taking—classes.”
    “What kinds of classes?”
    “I started off with pastry, then I went on to cakes.” Her face lit up, eyes sparkling in the golden candle radiance, succulent lips curving, dimples doing a slow two-step when her smile widened, showcasing perfect, even teeth.
    Bite me, she'd said earlier. A suppressed fantasy?
    “My mom used to make this fantastic devil's food cake when I was a kid. Ever heard of it?”
    “That was one of the first cakes I ever made.” She blindsided him with contagious enthusiasm. “I could probably make it for you, but it would be in a loaf pan. I didn't find any cake pans.”
    “I'd never say no to chocolate. Don't forget there's no juice, so you can't use beaters or anything like that.”
    “Juice? I don't…oh you mean electricity.” She smirked. “Ha! I learned to make cakes from scratch and manually. I beat them by hand. I don't need electricity.”
    Beating? Spanking? Focus, focus .
    “No kidding—why?”
    “It's a basic technique. At first it was tiring, but now I can whip one up just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
    “You must have strong biceps and forearms, then,” Lincoln commented, the sinner in him going in for the kill. He reached across, nudged her sleeve above her elbow and ordered, “Flex.”
    Destiny didn't know where to look, how to respond. Flustered, rose ebbing and flowing across her flesh, she was adorable.
    An ache started in Lincoln's chest, mirrored by a burning in his groin.
    “Pretty impressive.” He trailed his fingers over a bunched forearm and a taut bicep. “No wonder you were able to cut me down and drag me inside. You're not just beautiful. You're strong too. I never did say thanks for rescuing me, did I?” Touching her cheek, he added, “I owe you, baby.”
    “Oh.” She gave a little shake of her head, as if clearing mental cobwebs. “It was nothing.”
    “Now, you know better than that. If you'd left me out there, I would've succumbed to the cold. It took a lot of guts and courage to do what you did. Not to mention brains. Very clever using the sheets. Kudos, baby.”
    Her gaze skimmed the table, settled on the basket of bread, and she lifted it. “Bread?”
    “Thanks,” he replied, taking a couple of slices.
    She reset the wicker basket back on the table and tore a slice of bread into four quarters, her movements jerky and jagged.
    Baby Doll's unhinged and nervous.
    “When did you start taking cooking classes?”
    He heard her soft exhale and noticed the relaxing of her shoulders.
    “After I moved to New York. Takeout's expensive on an assistant editor's salary.”
    “This”—he flicked a finger at the bowl—“is based on that recipe from Julie and Julia , isn't it?”
    “No, it's not,” she retorted. “This is based on Julia Child's recipe. That movie didn't do homage to her culinary skills. It concentrated more on Julie's life.”
    Destiny has a protective side. She'll make a great mom.
    He choked and gulped down half his glass of wine.
    Frick. Where'd that come from?
    “I've taken most of the classes the Culinary Institute of America offers. It's a good thing they keep adding new ones.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think I'm addicted to their classes.”
    “How'd you get into editing?”
    “I love to read. Once, I dreamed of writing.” Both shoulders rolled. “After a while you have to face reality. I'm good at finding the holes in a story, at making someone else's words string together better. I like editing.”
    You're protesting too much.
    Making a conscious decision to keep the conversation nonthreatening, and therefore nonsexual, during dinner, he asked, “What's the name of the author whose work you came to fix?”
    All the elation drained from her face and her lips squished into a tight purse. “Angel