The man had been collecting serial killer cases for years. Everything neatly labeled and filed away alphabetically. In some instances, he had managed ...to obtain copies of the original crime scene photos.She had looked at pictures of little girls torn open, little boys who had been raped and tortured, their throats ripped out afterwards. Women brutalized, men castrated.And sometimes he even had items that had belonged to either victim or killer. He had a trophy case full of paraphernalia. He had. A few times, the gentleman’s voice cracked while telling the husband one of his stories due to the ongoing pleasure he was receiving from his reintroduced friend from across the way. She would pretend to laugh at the right times, but secretly she really laughed at how he was handling himself. She knew she could keep this up all night. The question was, how long would he be rising to the challenge? She was so incredibly turned on with his debonair good looks and confidence that was radiating. I didn’t even have to seduce you on Friday.”“I—”She frowned and cut in. “Then why’d you give in to me? First time around, fine—my fault. But what about Friday?”It was tense silence that followed her question. A hot flush of color flamed his cheeks as Mr. khan scowled and looked away. “I think my wife’s cheating on me.” Standing before him, green eyes curious, she asked him how he knew. “I found a condom, Kavita, in the bathroom. It didn’t belong to me, and it was used.”“How long?”“Two months. “Hungry?” Mardo asked.She shook her head. “No, sir.”He guffawed. “Sir? You come from good stock.”Maximillia noticed the blatantly covetous grin on his face and was both curiously repulsed and enticed by it.“So you won’t eat and you look as nervous as a cornered gnorat, but you’ve got manners. That’s a rare combination amongst our ranks. You are a rare flower. Can I call you that, Maximillia? Flower?”Secretly she liked the idea of this mountainous man giving her a nickname. A rebellious smirk.