CLAY'S POV
My housekeeper, Aggie, had gone home.
So the click of the deadbolt was a sound I knew was from the only other person allowed to bypass my security without a phone call.
I froze, steam still clinging to my skin. I’d just stepped out of the shower, the adrenaline of the last two hours finally beginning to ebb into a dull ache in my knuckles.
I tightened the towel around my hips, wiping a hand over the fogged-up mirror and dragging my fingers through my damp hair before stepping into the hallway.
Water trailed after me, cold against the hardwood, but I didn't care.
Anyta was standing in the center of my living room, looking small against the backdrop of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
My throat cinched slightly as I took in her sharp office attire, a charcoal blazer and matchi
