Page 13 of The Sinner’s Desire (The Sinner’s Touch #1)

I’m shaking all over—partly from anger, partly from something I can’t quite name but that lit up every nerve in my body and made me feel alive.

I’ve never confronted anyone before—not like that.

With Ethan and Nora, I’ve always gone the persuasion route, because to them, I’m still just a child.

But Amos . . . Amos treated me like an adult.

He shoved it right in my face—how I’d put myself in a position where he could’ve kissed me with one move.

And worst of all? He’s right. He’s not a boy.

He’s a man. One who would never look at someone like me.

And me? What am I even doing, thinking I could match up to someone like him?

I called him sin, and I wasn’t joking.

Despite all the steamy books Martina’s made me read, I’ve never really thought of sex as something relevant to my life. But now? Now my whole body is reacting to him, to every single thing that’s happened since I landed in Boston.

Every word we trade feels like a challenge. Like we’re unwilling soldiers trapped in the middle of a war.

He is the war.

My sinner.

Mine? Only in my dreams.

Amos made it crystal clear how he sees me: as a little girl.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Ula, the older woman who worked for my mom for years and now helps Ethan, appears in the doorway. She was waiting when I arrived—thank God, because the tension in the elevator with Amos could’ve boiled steel.

“Hi, Miss Ula. I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I just wanted to see if you wanted something to eat. Your brother says airplane food is terrible.”

“He’s not wrong, but I’m not hungry. Thanks, though. You should go get some rest.”

“I don’t usually come over when Mr. Ethan’s traveling. Mr. Amos prefers to be left alone. But if you’d like, I can make an exception.”

“That’s sweet, but there’s no need. I can handle everything myself.”

“In that case, just know I’ll be here tomorrow morning for breakfast. Then I’ll be gone until Monday. I left plenty of frozen meals in the freezer.”

“Okay. No problem. Good night.”

No problem? God help me—I need to find something to do for the next three days if Amos decides to stay home.

I can’t even control how my body reacts to him. There’s no way I’m giving him another chance to tell me how unlikely it is for anything to happen between us.

It’s not like I asked him out, for crying out loud!

Cocky.

Cocky gentleman, to be fair. Even though I didn’t say a word to him after the garage incident, he still brought my bags upstairs and wished me good night—which, clearly, I’m not going to have, because I’m more wired than ever.

He also rattled off a few instructions about how the apartment works, as if he hadn’t just put me in my place minutes earlier. I got the impression he rushed through it because he wanted to get as far away from me as possible.

Definitely not the kind of guy who enjoys small talk. And now I feel humiliated because yeah—Ethan clearly twisted his arm to let me stay here.

I sigh, defeated.

Best thing I can do now? Take a shower, throw on some fresh pajamas, and spend the night tossing and turning while mentally drafting plans for a perfect future—one that doesn’t involve this apartment or the man who clearly can’t stand me.

But he said he wants you, whispers a devilish little voice in my head.

So what? Desire is physical. That’s it.

Sure. But come on . . . picture that mountain of muscle. Imagine Amos naked, Lilly.

“Shut up, you pervy angel. The last thing I need is a casual fling as my first relationship.”

I wake up with sunlight peeking through the curtains. One glance at my phone tells me it’s past ten. Pretty sure I’ve never slept that long in my life.

It took forever to fall asleep last night. Too many emotions. Too much stimulation in one single day.

The move from Paris alone would’ve been enough to throw me off. Now add sharing a home with a sexy, arrogant demigod?

Just stop, Lilly. Don’t think about him. Just be polite. He’s Ethan’s best friend.

Ethan!

Crap—I forgot to check in like I promised.

I unlock my phone and see two messages from him:

Ethan: Lilly, did you make it? Weren’t you supposed to text me when you got in?

Ethan: Assuming you were too exhausted to call. Just let me know when you’re up.

Oh God, he’s probably preparing a search party.

I hesitate between calling and texting, but I have no idea what time it is in Southern Africa, where he said he’d be, so I go with a text.

Me: Hey, Biggie. So sorry I didn’t check in. I was really tired last night. Made it just fine.

The screen lights up in under five minutes.

Ethan: You’re forgiven—this time. I know you’re safe. I spoke with Amos. How are things between you two?

Oh boy. What now?

No way I’m telling him his best friend and I almost went full-on MMA the moment we saw each other.

Me: All good. He was very helpful.

Ethan: I was worried things might be awkward between you. Glad you’re getting along. Enjoy your day, little sis.

Me: You too.

I hop into the shower, then decide to write up a detailed to-do list for my next steps—until I finally find a place of my own.

I love to-do lists. They’ve always helped me organize my restless thoughts—and right now, I really need a distraction from the fact that I landed in Boston already making a fool of myself.

Amos saw right through me. He knows I’m attracted to him.

But to be fair . . . what woman wouldn’t be?

Thankfully, his beauty comes wrapped in ego. So I’m immune.

I got my first shot of the vaccine last night—in the garage. Now let’s just hope it kicks in soon.