Author’s POV
Emma grips the door handle, heart slamming against her ribs.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Mark’s grin is slow and ugly. He pushes off the bedpost, taking a lazy step toward her.
“Doesn’t matter how I got in, Em. Point is, I’m here. And you’re finally alone.”
He reaches for her face.
Emma’s hand shoots up, blocking his wrist. “Touch me and you lose the hand.”
Mark chuckles, undeterred, leaning in. “Still playing hard to get? You were always a tease—”
Emma’s stomach turns. She backs up until her shoulders hit the door. “Get away from me.”
He keeps coming, voice dropping to that fake-sweet tone he used to use right before he got mean. “Come on, baby. One kiss. For old times’ sake. Bet that old wolf can’t make you feel the way I used to.”
She moves first.
