wnstairs.”It was Bones’s voice. I fought a shiver, giving myself a mental slap. Get a grip.“Am I supposed to say ‘Marco’?” I asked, going down the stairs.I heard his amused snort inside the room to the left of the landing. “If you’d like.”Enter freely and of your own will. I squared my shoulders and did just that.Bones sat on a brown leather sofa that was a few shades lighter than his eyes. The walls were rust-colored, with white crown molding, and the floors were a darkened oak with thick rugs. He almost matched the room with his outfit; a cream shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck, sleeves rolled up, and tan pants. And he was so friggin’ gorgeous that it hurt just looking at him.“I wasn’t expecting you, so I don’t have any gin,” he said, filling a glass. “Care for a whiskey instead?”“Sure. Thanks,” I added as an afterthought, lingering by the door.He gave me a look as he poured another one. “You didn’t come all the way here just to hug the doorframe, did you?”Left with few options, I sat, choosing the couch opposite him. As soon as I did, however, I stiffened, remembering my lack of underwear. The dress was a few inches north of my knees. What if Bones thought I was trying to fl
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