Page 21 of Merciless Sinner

Not when it would cost me my life.

My eyes drifted closed and I squeezed them tight. Those days were long behind me now. I’d spent too much time and effort putting my life back together to let him ruin it all over again. I was better than that. I deserved a better life.

Yes. Eight is fine. Should I send you my address or do you want me to meet you somewhere? I don’t need a car.

I guess I was going through with meeting him again. I had no idea why because I knew it wasn’t something that could go anywhere. He obviously had a taste for certain things, that while fun to try once, weren’t a life goal. But as my tingling body could readily attest to, I was willing to give him one more night. Another night of fun with the sexiest man I’d ever met would not be a hardship. And it might get me through the rest of the winter alone.

The phone’s ping snagged my attention.

No. I don’t need your address. A car will be at your apartment at eight sharp. I will see you then.

What the ever loving hell? Or more appropriate, what the hell was I getting myself into? He magically/creepily had my phone number that I gave out to no one. He already seemed to know where I live even though I definitely didn’t give him that information. He knew where I worked. And I still didn’t even know his name.

I was either the dumbest woman on the planet, or he was some kind of crazy spy with a secret identity. The chuckle that bubbled up frightened me. This probably wasn’t a laughing matter. This had stalker/serial killer written all over it. Then I remembered the monitors at the Glass Kat. Okay, maybe not serial killer since our first meeting was well documented and that didn’t seem like a thing a criminal would want.

But stalker was still a very real possibility. Did I want to be stalked by him? Yes! No, of course not. No one wanted to be pursued by a beautiful, likely wealthy man with a mouth that knew how to give pleasure in indescribable ways.

Harper.

The appearance of my name on the screen startled me.

Yes?I typed back.

Alex.

Chapter Ten

Harper

As promised, my doorbell buzzed promptly at eight pm. I smoothed out my favorite little black dress and began the process of unlocking my umpteen locks. I didn’t live in a bad neighborhood per se, but living alone in a big city meant I didn’t take unnecessary risks when it came to home security. Plus, I’d been told this was a necessity here.

I steeled myself with a deep breath and yanked open the door—to a stranger.

Before the tendrils of fear could take root, the man in the black suit at my threshold gave me a tight smile and tilted his body to the side. “Good evening, Ms. Allison my name is Gerard. I’m here to escort you downstairs to where Mr. Woodman is waiting.”

“Alex Woodman.” I said the name, not as a question, but instead as another piece to the puzzle that was my mystery man.

“Yes, Ma’am, of course. Mr. Alexander Woodman.”

I bit my lips at the puzzled expression on the driver/man servant’s face. I mean what exactly was I supposed to call him besides Gerard? I had no idea what the protocol was for this kind of thing.

“Uhm. Okay.” I started forward and Gerard stopped me.

“Ma’am, it’s quite cold outside. Don’t you want to grab your coat?”

Oh duh. I nearly slapped my forehead over my stupidity. A purse and keys were kind of necessary too. This whole situation was apparently melting my brain.

I stepped back inside and grabbed my things from the entry table and hook, shrugged the warm but functional jacket onto my arms and wished I’d thought ahead to this part so I could have asked Zia to borrow something a little nicer than my puffy hooded coat that I wore daily, not because it was pretty, but because it functioned perfectly by keeping me warm.

I preceded Gerard down the three flights of stairs that seemed longer than ever before. We emerged together from the building with him holding my door open. At the sight of the sleek black car at the curb I got a twinge in my stomach. When the back door opened and Alex emerged from the backseat, I began to feel a little like a princess.

Maybe it was the fish out of water with a stepmother kind, but I didn’t care. He was here in his modern day chariot with a million dollar smile on his face that made my knees go a little weak. And I didn’t care even a little how cliched that sounded in my own head.

“Hey,” he said, taking my hand and pressing it to his mouth. I gasped at the contact of his warm lips against my skin. That tiny little gesture sent me reeling back to Valentine’s night and the first kiss we’d shared then.

This one was far different from that night, but it felt every bit as important.

“Hey yourself.” Two words, it was all I could string together at the moment. If nervous butterflies hadn’t erupted inside me I would have laughed. I was being ridiculous again.

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