What the hell?!
With a sharp thunk, Sandra knocked her head during their struggle. Dazed, she crouched to catch her breath, rubbing her forehead as she shot him an injured look. "What was that for?"
Jackie sat on the bed's edge, the chandelier light carving shadows from his lashes across his cheekbones. His toned abs peeked through the black silk robe, vanishing whenever the fabric shifted.
She bit her lip hard, fighting a sudden dryness in her mouth. How pathetic, she thought.
Just like when she was ten, when Philip first introduced her to Jackie. She'd been spellbound instantly. Back then, calling him Second Brother felt like savoring stolen candy—sweet and addictive. An ugly duckling then, a pariah now. Talk about trading one misery for another.
Jackie's voice turned razor-sharp, t
