His eyes didn’t leave her face and she couldn’t move, only nod slowly. His gaze drifted over her as if inspecting her carefully. Seeing her. Seeing too much. She had secrets to hide. Not little tiny secrets, huge ones. She couldn’t afford a man like this around her. He took in too much. Saw past every guard. And for some reason she wasn’t very good at keeping things under wraps around him.

Abruptly he turned away and began to walk around the warehouse. Not walk—he prowled. He moved like a great jungle cat, all flowing muscle, fluid and absolutely silent. He was a thing of beauty to watch. He moved with absolute confidence, and she doubted if he missed anything.

His gaze searched the high places as well as the low. She could see he was systematically checking every concealed space and yet at the same time, seeing everything. There wasn’t much to see. Mostly, the warehouse was empty. It was a single story, very long and very wide. What had been an office was now her bedroom.

Malcom had begun work on renovating the warehouse some years ago and then stopped when he met his wife. She hadn’t been so enamored with the idea of living in the warehouse district. He had thought it would be nice to have his apartment and dojo together so he’d bought the building. He met his wife four months later.

She was very happy it had taken Malcom four months to meet the woman he had fallen madly in love with. That meant he’d worked on the warehouse. She had a makeshift bathroom and a really good bedroom space. Her kitchen area was the most finished of any room. She had a sink, counter, stove and small fridge. Malcom had started with a kitchen and bathroom, paying most attention to the fact that he liked to eat properly because he worked out so much.

“You have a hose for a shower.”

Of course he would notice that.

“It’s still in the building phase,” she admitted. Since he was talking now, she assumed there was no one ready to jump out and murder her. She trailed after him, moving quickly to catch up.

He was in her bedroom, looking carefully around him. His gaze took in everything, the bed, the small safe on the floor beside the bed and her beat-up chair. She refused to be embarrassed. She’d found the chair at a thrift store and it was comfortable. Ignoring him she went to the safe, opened it and shoved her tip money inside.

The bedroom had three walls. The fourth was open to the warehouse floor. Straight ahead was her heavy bag hanging from the ceiling, a mat and a speed bag. She’d spent precious dollars on her equipment but felt it was a necessary expenditure.

“Nice workout area.”