Page 54 of The Deception: Hercules Valentine and I
I slip on a soft cotton dress that extends past my knees. It fits my body almost like a glove, not too tight or too loose. It’s red too. I look damn good in that color.
“Shoes,” I say as my cellphone rings. “Shit!”
I stretch my neck to see the number. Excitement swirls through me. It’s him.
I snatch the phone off the nightstand and slip on one riding boot at the same time. “Hercules?”
“Are you ready?”
“Almost. I’m just putting on my other boot.”
“How about I come up?” he asks.
I drop my foot on the floor and stand up straight. “Huh?”
“What’s your apartment number?”
“Um, I’m ready, so I’ll just come down. And my place is a mess.” I take notice of the outfit I wore today strewn across my bed and then quickly bend down to swipe today’s panties off the floor.
“No, I’ll come up. Unless you’re hiding something. Are you hiding something, Lark Davenport?”
I clutch my chest as my heart thumps like thunder. I can get out of this. I could say that I’m hungry and there’s not a stitch of food in my fridge.
“I’d like to get to know you better, Lark. Let me come up,” he says.
His sensual tone makes one word escape my mouth before I’m able to stop it.
