11

SIX

AUDREY

DYLAN SEEMED TO GO PALE. He normally had rather fair skin—

probably because he was British and because his work habits didn’t

let him out in the sun too often—but now he was even whiter than

usual.

Maybe it was a bit scandalous to just drop my dress the way I

had. I could have talked to him about my plan first, but after the way

he’d kissed me the night before, I didn’t think conversation was

necessary. I was certainly still buzzing from the feel of his lips and

the sweep of his tongue. I thought a little skin would be all that was

needed to reignite those passions in him as well.

Instead, it seemed to throw him into a state of shock.

“Audrey,” he stammered, his eyes darting everywhere, then to

me, then quickly to anywhere else but me. He was deliberately trying

not to look, but it seemed he couldn’t help himself. “What the bloody

hell are you doing, girl?” He picked my dress up off the floor and

brought it to me. “Put this on. Please. There aren’t curtains. The

whole city