ANNIE
I wandered out into the living room, still wearing my pajamas. I hadn't even bothered to fix my hair. It was piled in wild disarray on the top of my head. I walked over to the visitor and stuck out my hand. "Hi. I'm Annie Clarke."
"Victor St. Pierre." He attempted to crush my hand in his. It was easy to see the family resemblance. He had the same square jaw, the same big, barrel-chested body. He was still a handsome and imposing man, even though his hair was graying and thinning away from his temples. If this was how Kameron was going to age, I would be chasing away fawning females for a long time to come.
Where did that thought come from? We'd shared a bed again; it wasn't like we were making lifetime commitments. I wasn't even sure I was ready to forgive him for the
