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rolled up over his thickly veined forearms.
     
    I fumbled around for a towel. “What the hell!” I cried out, feeling completely embarrassed and heated. I grabbed the towel clumsily and held it up against me instead of wrapping it around me, too desperate for cover to think clearly.
     
    Liam raised a brow in amusement. “As much as I might look like him, I am not your stepbrother,” he said, his voice smoother and deeper than Liam’s had ever been in life.
     
    I still clutched the towel to me. “I-I know that!” I stuttered, although my body clearly still had a hard time believing it. “Regardless of who the fuck you are, you can’t just barge into people’s showers!”
     
    Liam flicked a lazy glance over at the empty shower, the showerhead still spraying out steaming hot water. “I would think a shower requires you to be in it,” he said sardonically.
     
    “I was just about to before you came barging in!” I said, pulling the towel up closer to my chin. God, had Liam ever looked this good before? I knew it was crazy to even be thinking such things and I felt like a tramp just entertaining the thought but it was impossible not to.
     
    The man moved like a panther—smooth, graceful, but with a definite note of restrained power. He wasn’t the goofy, sweet older stepbrother I had known growing up. This Liam was lethal, raw, and dangerous. He made the steamy room feel thousands of degrees hotter just with his presence.
     
    Well, I guess he’s more at home in hotter climates, isn’t he? I thought almost hysterically.
     
    Liam closed the small gap between us. My en suite bathroom had always been quite large and spacious. But standing here with Liam, I suddenly felt like I was trapped in a tiny closet.
     
    Leaning one hand against the wall behind me, he looked down at me with those unfathomable green eyes. “I don’t think you were,” he said, referring to the shower. I felt pinned under his gaze. “I think you were standing here, losing your nerve.”
     
    I bit my lip, feeling a bit of my pride get wounded by his shrewd guess. But I was unable to help the subtle shivers that still rolled through my body.
     
    “What do you care?” I whispered, sure my voice would get drowned out by the shower. “What do you care if I get my revenge or not? In the end, a soul is a soul, isn’t it? Why should you care when you get it?”
     
    Liam stared down at me. “Do you know why I picked you?” he asked. “Do you know why you’ve gotten the nearly impossible opportunity to taste living breath again?”
     
    I shook my head, feeling tremors still run down my spine.
     
    “Your rage,” he answered simply. “Your absolute indignant rage at being murdered.” He ran a finger down my cheek, making me swallow hard. “Most people die resigned or in denial. They die peacefully or full of regrets. But hardly ever do people die with so much fight in their heart, as you did.”
     
    He never broke his gaze. “You watched your entire family get tortured before your eyes before being murdered yourself. You were tortured and then killed in the room right below us. Your soul was on fire when you came to me. Your heart was so angry, so indignant.” He closed his eyes as if recalling a beautiful memory. “It was delicious.”
     
    “Then why didn’t you just eat my soul then?” I asked, breathless. My heartbeat echoed against my ears. I felt Liam’s thumb brush against my bottom lip.
     
    Liam quirked a lip. “Believe it or not, there are rules in the afterlife just as there are rules here. Souls cannot just be eaten. They must agree to it. And most people wouldn’t agree to such an act without getting something in return.”
     
    “Their heart’s desire,” I said softly, remembering those words from that airless black space.
     
    Liam’s eyes darkened at the words. “That’s right,” he said softly. “But it just so happens, your heart’s desire only makes your soul that much more desirable. So much