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“Meet me down here in an hour,” he says, giving nothing away.

The elevator doors begin to slide shut, but I hit the button, making the doors jerk open. “Where will you be?”

“I’ll be down here, waiting for you,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his sinful lips.

“I—”

But Quinn reaches into the elevator, prying my finger off the button so the doors quickly shut.As they do, I look at him, his figure becoming narrower, and he smiles, ducking his head to meet my worried eyes.

“See you in an hour.”

I attempt to retort, but the doors slam shut on Quinn’s smiling face while I’m doing anything but smiling.

What’s he up to?

When the elevator reaches our floor, I walk to our room and burst through the door, looking from left to right, attempting to seek any clues as to what is happening.Everything looks the same, and I’m not sure if I should be relieved or frightened.

My eyes take in the pristine condition of the room, and as they fall onto the bed, a flicker of red catches my eye, resulting in my heart skipping a beat.Walking over to the bed quickly, I gasp when I see a stunning red dress draped across the gold duvet.

The long-sleeved dress has an extremely low bustline and looks to come about mid-thigh. I finger the soft material and can’t stop the smile from spreading across my cheeks when I see a box of red hair dye sitting near it.

I can’t wipe the smile off my face at how thoughtful and how…sweet Quinn is. He’s taken this whole first date thing and set the bar pretty high for our second one.

Well, I hope we have a second one.

I walk into the bathroom to dye my hair and get ready.However, as I switch on the light, a laugh leaves me.

Under the towel rack sits a pair of black Doc Martens. Quinn knew I would probably break my neck, ending our fabulous date, if I wore anything other than flats.

I can’t believe this; this is too much. He’s gone to so much effort, and now I realize what he was up to when he went downstairs this morning.

With no time to waste, it’s time for this Cinderella to prepare for the ball.

I use the hour to get ready, and with two minutes to spare, I look at myself in the wall of mirrors and can’t believe the reflection staring back at me.

My newly dyed hair looks fresh and sits curled around my face. My blue eyes are coated in a gray shimmer, and my lashes look insanely long as I’ve applied ten coats of mascara. I haven’t put on a lot of foundation, only a light dusting, and a sheer red gloss coats my lips.

The dress is a little short, but Quinn thankfully supplied a pair of black opaque tights, which look amazing under the tight red dress and with the black Docs. The neckline was a little low, so I’ve slipped on a black tank to feel more comfortable.

My diamond nose stud and earrings are the only pieces of jewelry I’m wearing, which is fine, as I feel dressed up without any on.

The wall clock reads 6:59 p.m.—time to meet Prince Charming.

I grab my jacket, loving how my freshly painted black nails sparkle in the light.

As I approach the elevator, my heart does that unhealthy thumping thing it does whenever I’m about to see Quinn. But it’s a good feeling, like a thousand butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, ready to take flight when I see him.

The elevator ride is way too fast, and before I know it, I’m approaching the ground floor. I give my reflection one final look in the mirrors, ensuring I don’t have lip gloss on my teeth.

The doors ding, indicating I’ve reached my destination, and I step out slowly, not knowing where to look. But I don’t have to look far, as the most gorgeous man I have ever seen stands off to the left, patiently waiting for me.

I almost don’t recognize Quinn because he looks, if this is possible, hotter than I have ever seen him before. I almost forget to swallow as he stands before me in black jeans tucked into black combat boots, a black-and-white-checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a black tie hanging loosely around his neck.

His slicked-back hair is tied back, exposing his chiseled face.

I cannot stop staring at him. He isepic—in every sense of the word.

I want him naked, in my bed, and I want him now.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com