“Rosie, my little angel….”

Myla’s brows furrowed as the strange, raspy voice kept whispering calmly and intimately to her, sending tufts of wind into her ears, showing just how close the person was.

She could feel fingers slowly and possessively stroking through her hair, then down to her shoulders and arm, but instead of it bringing her comfort the way her men’s hands usually did, the hand was sending shivers of dread down her spine.

Flinching, she tried to move away, but her body ...