Page 43 of Downforce

Her scoff penetrates my ears at the same time she finally tugs free of my grasp. I curl my fingers into a ball to stop myself from reaching out for her again.

“How did you know which hotel I’m staying at?”

Her question catches me off guard until I look up to find we’re standing in front of my hotel. I hadn’t even thought about where I was leading her. Forgot to stop and ask where she was staying. All I wanted was to get her out of that park and as far from those wankers as possible.

“This is my hotel,” I admit, my anger only beginning to subside.

“Coincidence, I suppose.” She shrugs and turns her back on me to go inside. It’s not really a coincidence since there’s a short list of hotels drivers typically stay at in the city.

But I don’t like her walking away from me, so I follow.

“What floor are you on?” I ask, catching up to her at the second the elevator doors open, hopping in with her.

“None of your business.” Her retort would be her gotcha if she hadn’t already pressed the number eight, in an attempt to close the doors in my face.

My floor is nine, but I don’t mind taking the stairs up after I walk her to her room. I stand in the corner of the elevator, watching her with my hands in the pockets of my jeans. She intentionally avoids my stare, tapping her foot impatiently.

Unashamed and unbothered, I allow my eyes to traverse every part of her face. Everything from her unblemished skin, to the myriad of freckles that paint her cheeks and bridge of her button nose, to her incredibly full lips. She’s chosen a pale pink color to wear tonight, and I wonder if the bastard who allowed her to walk home alone appreciated the effort she put into everything from her makeup to the way she tamed her fiery curls into a braid that stops a few inches below her shoulders.

Of course not. He couldn’t appreciate it if he allowed her to walk home alone.

The first time I saw her with Travis, all of those years ago, I was confused when he introduced her as his sister. It took a second look to see the family resemblance since Travis has neither red hair nor freckles. But all it takes is a knowledge of their father to see the resemblance.

Annalise gets her freckles and red locks from his side of the family.

“Why are you following me?” she tosses over her shoulder when her efforts to shake me as a tail fail since I’m only a foot behind her.

“Doing my part to show you what a proper escort entails?”

Her dark brows furrow in confusion.

“Unlike your date,” I clarify.

She huffs and throws up her hands almost as if in defeat. But I know better. She isn’t the type to be bested. Least of all by the likes of me.

“It wasn’t a date,” she blurts out, frustrated. “I had dinner with a friend and went for a walk in the park after to clear my head. Is that a crime?”

I open my mouth to answer but she doesn’t give me space to reply.

“No, it’s not a damn crime. Not only that, but it’s messed up for you to be pissed at and blame me for being harassed by those guys. I don’t know if you’re living in the last century or what, but women have the damn right to walk around without being accosted.”

The words I was going to say die in my throat.

She’s right.

Other people’s behavior isn’t her responsibility and it’s not her that I’m upset with. I find the idea of any woman being harmed abhorrent. The thought of this woman getting hurt at the hands of a random group of guys enrages me.

That is until I peer down at her flared nostrils, reddened cheeks, and flashing eyes. My anger settles, and the knowledge that Annalise was probably very capable of handling herself against those guys comes to me all at once.

She had been prepared in a defensive stance, ready to take on the ringleader. My gaze drops to her shoes. Even in heels I don’t doubt that he never stood a chance against her.

“You’re right,” I say, my anger finally, finally deflating.

Her eyes balloon, lips press together, and her eyelids lower as her eyes track right to left. A freckle I’d never noticed before at the center of her left eyelid catches my attention.

I stare at it as she, it seems, is at a loss for words. A minor chink in the exterior of the princess that always has the perfect comeback.

“Yes.” She nods as if confirming to herself, first. “I’m right. Besides, you probably should get to bed or something. You have a busy next few days.”