Free Deadly Obsession by Elle James

you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll call it a night.”
    Molly stood. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Jillian.”
    Jillian smiled at her friend. “No, you didn’t. I’ve heard the same story at least a half dozen times since I bought the house. I’m not worried about stories. I love the house, and I don’t regret buying it. It’ll be beautiful when I’m finished remodeling.”
    Molly hugged Jillian. “I’m sure it will. You have a keen eye for tasteful design. Get some rest, sweetie.”
    â€œThank you.” Jillian hugged Molly, feeling lucky to have such a good friend in a town where sometimes she was still considered an outsider. She hadn’t grown up here, therefore she was a transplant.
    She left the dining room, collected the kitten, box and all, and climbed the stairs to the room Molly had offered to let her stay in for the next couple of days until she had running water and electricity in her haunted house.
    â€œHaunted.” She stared down at the kitten in the box, curled up in a ball, lifting his sleepy head as if questioning her. “Don’t look at me like that. I know what I’m doing. The house can’t be blamed for what happened in or around it. It’s just a house. You and I will bring it back to life and make it a happy home to live in. Just wait and see.”
    Jillian settled the box next to the white iron bed decorated with a beautiful, old-fashioned quilt. Then she gathered toiletries, her nightgown and robe, and walked down the hall to one of the shared bathrooms. Not all of the rooms had a connected bathroom. But Jillian wasn’t picky. Having no home to go to, she was glad for a room in the B and B, where she could be close to Molly.
    In the bathroom, Jillian locked the door, stripped out of her dusty clothes and stepped into the claw-foot bathtub. She loved how Molly had decorated with care, going with early-twentieth-century furnishings. Each bedroom had a brass, white iron or rich mahogany four-poster bed. The electricity and plumbing had been brought up to code during her remodel, but she’d used old-fashioned tile and bathroom fixtures to give the guests a feeling of entering a bygone century.
    Jillian hoped to recreate similar decor in her home. She’d choose each piece of furniture with care. But first, she had to get the house livable. After sitting empty for seventeen years, it had quirks, like the bird nests they’d found in the attic and the kitten in the basement.
    Standing in the warm spray, Jillian let the stress of the day wash down the drain. The house would be fine. The kitten would be a welcome companion, and the man she’d nearly kissed downstairs would be gone once the wedding was over.
    No use getting excited about a man who wouldn’t be around in less than a week. Never mind his broad shoulders, dark good looks and those incredibly blue eyes a woman could fall into and never want to come out of.
    Jillian rinsed shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water. A good night’s sleep would help her put thoughts of ghosts and one hunky man out of her mind. Determined to get back on track with all she had to accomplish in the next week, she dried off, combed the tangles out of her hair and slipped into her nightgown and robe.
    She wished she’d brought one of her less revealing robes instead of the one that matched the baby-doll nightgown beneath. Too much of her legs showed beneath the short, diaphanous robe.
    With a sigh, she gathered her things and carefully balanced them while managing to unlock the door. Pushing it open with her hip, she backed out of the bathroom and into a solid wall of naked muscular chest.
    The items she’d been carrying exploded out of her arms and scattered across the floor. Flustered, she bent to collect them, but strong, warm hands reached for them first, bumping into hers, sending little shock waves through her body.
    â€œI didn’t