Gaia’s answer to Gregori’s impatiently repeated instruction was to increase her pace. Not that she would have stood any chance of out-walking or even out-running the powerful black car crawling along the road beside her. It looked like a make of an expensive sports car. She’d lived in London her whole life, where learning to drive had never been a priority, so she really didn’t know a lot about the make and model of cars. But it was exactly the sort of car she would have expected Gregori to drive: sleek, black, with tinted windows that didn’t allow onlookers to see inside the vehicle. Quite why he had decided to follow her she had no idea. In fact, she could think of only one reason for it, and that was to carry on where they had left off, and that really, really wasn’t going to happen. As it was, her panties had been too ripped for her to be able to wear them, and her fitted low-rise denims were chaffing in all the wrong places, causing even more discomfort to her still-sensitized flesh.
