He doesn’t answer, and he’s gone before I can ask again, leaving nothing but the faint scent of his cologne behind. I stare at the empty doorway, my heart thudding annoyingly loud in my chest.
Unknown Number:
What’s your email address?
Me:
Who is this?
Unknown Number:
Tall.
Blond.
Handsome.
Probably has opinions about your fouettés.
Me:
Reign?
Unknown Number:
I always knew you thought I was handsome.
My cheeks burnas I add his number to my phone.
Me:
Don’t flatter yourself, Harrington. What do you want?
Reign of Terror:
Your email…unless you’d rather I drop the contract off in person.
My heart pounds violently as I picture him turning up at my doorstep this late at night, but instead of scaring me, it turns me on, andthatscares me.
Reign of Terror:
Me:
You’re ridiculous.
Reign of Terror:
That’s not a no.
I roll my eyes and send him my email address.
Me:
How did you get my number, anyway?
Reign of Terror:
It’s a secret.