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He did not know how to explain her, even to one of his closest friends.
Not once had he ever mentioned her to anyone.
Seeing Anthony’s discomfiture, Nathan smiled.
“Get back to whatever you were doing. As long as we are here, we might as well enjoy ourselves.” Nathan waved his hand and moved onward.
Anthony smiled with relief. Raking his hand through his hair, he took a deep breath and went back to the door, his mind already spinning with plans of how he was going to make her talk. This time, he was not going to let her go afterward—even if he had to carry her over his shoulder back to his house and tie her to his bed there.
When he opened the door, it took him a moment to understand what his eyes were seeing.
Empty room.
Cravat on the bed.
Window open.
“Fuck!”
He ran to the window and bent out, looking up and down the alley. Empty.
She was gone.
Again.
“Fuck!”
He banged his fist against the windowsill, fury and frustration rioting through him. Clenching his jaw, he pulled back and stared at the ceiling, hands fisted at his side as he roped a tight leash around his anger.
Taking several deep breaths, he held them in until his chest hurt, then slowly let the air out.
This was the second time she had done this to him.
There will not be a third.
Slowly, Anthony turned and looked at the open window again. A thin smile crossed his lips as his fists unclenched. Fate had thrown them together a second time. He would trust the fickle goddess to do it again. Next time, he would not underestimate his vixen.
There would be a reckoning.
* * *
