I rub my eyes wearily as I try to make out the figure looming over me. “Victoria, it’s me.” There’s no mistaking the sound of that voice. Deep and rich and sexy as hell. Gabriel. At first I think I might be dreaming, so I smile. But then panic sets in. I sit up in bed anxiously, not sure what I should do. He’s in my apartment, in my fucking bedroom. And here I am half naked and no makeup on. He proceeds slowly to the mattress on the floor and sits down as gracefully as he can. He looks different. As my eyes adjust, I realize he’s wearing a leather motorcycle jacket and his hair is all windswept and wild. “What are you doing here?” I ask nervously. “Alanna let me in,” he replies shortly, glancing around the dimly lit room. “Jesus, this can’t be where you really live.” He looks down at my mattress with disapproval. “You don’t even have a fucking bed!
