ISLA’S POV.

Remy’s hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin with an almost tender touch. His lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile that sent shivers racing down my spine.

"I have something for you," he murmured, his voice smooth and dangerous. "Why don’t you tell your visitor to leave?"

Before I could respond, his smile faded, replaced by a dark, simmering intensity. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over my lips as his voice dropped lower, a growl vibrating ...