Emma checked her reflection for the third time. The emerald-green dress hugged her curves perfectly, the neckline high enough to hide the last of Damien's marks but sheer enough to tease. She'd debated changing three times already.
Why am I trying to impress him? He's the one being paid to be here.
But the thought vanished the second her phone buzzed.
Damien: I'm outside.
Her stomach flipped. Outside? How did he know where I live?
She stared at the message, her mind racing. Then she sighed.
Nevermind. I probably told him. Well, I gave him my card. He must have looked up the address.
Still, something about it felt too intimate. Too knowing.
She grabbed her purse and hurried out, her heels clicking against the tile. But the moment she stepped onto the sidewalk, she froze.
A Bugatti.
