JOSH.

“You always this quiet, or are you just deciding how hard you want to ruin me tonight?”

Louis Kane’s voice slid under the club’s bass like a hand around my throat. Low. Controlled. The kind of tone that made my pulse kick against the high collar of the black dress I had no business wearing.

I kept my lashes lowered, the heavy wig framing a face I’d spent an hour softening with makeup. My real jaw still threatened to give me away if the light hit wrong. “Depends,” I murmured, pitching my voice soft and sweet the way I’d practiced in the mirror. “How hard do you usually like...