And not just because James, the driver he’d hired for the night, had texted him when she’d left the car. The air shifted. Growing heavier, it pressed against his chest with the weight of anticipation and uncertainty. He had no idea what she’d do when she figured out who he was. Would she run? Yell? Helplessly melt against him? He was hoping for option three, but was prepared for the other two. They were more likely. He couldn’t envision Alyssa Vaughn simply accepting a complication like this with calm silence. She was going to have to work through it, but he needed her to know it was him behind the mask. Three nights later and he still couldn’t get the taste of her off his tongue. She was constantly there, sweet and sharp. And the feel of her hands running over his chest... Last night it had taken everything inside him not to follow through on what he wanted.
