"Erin Lowell, there's something you need to know." He locked the door behind him, ran a hand through his damp, messy hair. His tone was light, his expression calm, and his gaze was lowered, revealing a hint of casual wildness.
When Erin Lowell saw him lock the door, her brow furrowed deeply. She slipped a hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing against a cold blade. With a frosty gaze, she asked, "What is it?"
The only sound in the consulting room was the faint whistling of the wind. Zane Jennings stood in place for a moment before walking toward her.
She took a step back until the small of her back hit the desk, stopping only when she had no more room to retreat.
Zane Jennings stopped too. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth and chuckled. "What are you hiding from? It's not like I can eat you here."
It was the first time she had ever heard a man say something so explicit, and the tips of her ears immediately began to burn.
