The ass had called Christian—not Shannon—with instructions that she was not to leave the house for the next two days. No ifs, ands, or sorry asses about it. She was on lockdown. Santos didn’t know who she was but was on the prowl. And while it made her want to scrub every inch of her body with scalding water, it was ridiculous to think the man would go through that much trouble for her. What was his problem? Weeks ago, Maggie and Christian had planned a vacation to Tahoe for this week. After assuring them she wouldn’t allow anyone onto the property—she wouldn’t make that mistake again—she told Christian and Maggie not to change their plans. She could handle time by herself. But after one day, all that was absent was the long tail and whiskers for her to feel like a mouse trapped in a cage. And for that reason she couldn’t hit the Reply button fast enough when Noah’s number came up on her phone. It had nothing to do with missing him. “Hello,” she said in a tone she hoped said I’m bored and screw you and I’m not happy you called, all at the same time.
