Page 24 of Entangled
“Much better.” I resume my dance.
And itisan improvement over the last song. Even though the drums still sound a little off kilter. I glide around the room, gyrating my hips every time I get close to the camera.
“Yeah, just like that, sugar. Show me everything.”
THWACK.
I shriek when something hits my window.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I think a bird flew into my window.” I head over, bracing myself for blood and guts. The last time this happened, my dad had to ask our gardener to put the creature out of its misery. I hope the poor thing died quickly instead of suffering.
THWACK.
I yelp when another one hits the glass. “Stupid animals need to watch where they’re flying. It’s not like this house is small.”
When I finally reach the window, I don’t find bird entrails. I frown at the clumps of snow sliding down the panes.
THWACKnumber three.
What the fuck is going on?
Wiping the fog, I peer through the glass and spot a dark figure standing on the front path. These aren’t suicidal birds hitting my window. Some asshole is throwing snowballs.
And something tells me I knowexactlywho that asshole might be.
“Mr. Maximus, I’m so sorry, but I need to check on these poor birds.” I disconnect the feed before he can respond.
Unlatching the window, I shove it upward and gasp when the frigid air hits me. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Maybe if you’d answer the fucking door, I wouldn’t have to pelt your window with snowballs,” Henry shouts, waving his arms wildly.
“Oh,” I say, when realization dawns. It wasn’t a rogue drum after all. “What do you want?”
“I need your help.”
“Why should I help you?” I fire back, my heart still racing from being startled.
“Because my truck won’t start, and I can’t find my phone.”
Both are very good reasons, but I feel like being petty. Not only did he shut me down earlier, but he interrupted my danceagain. Mr. Maximus is probably furious. I’m sure he’s already on the phone with Esme. While I don’t know his identity, my boss has made it clear he’s averypowerful man. And I’ve crossed him twice.
“How is that my problem?”
“It’s fucking freezing out here, Rowan. Please let me in.”
Guilt tickles my spine with the desperation in his tone. Yes, he hurt my feelings and pissed me off, but I’m not a mean person.
“I’ll be right down.” I close the window and relatch it, then slip the nightgown on over my bodysuit. Abandoning my mask on the dresser, I hurry downstairs and pull the door open.
“Thanks.” Henry steps inside and stomps snow off his boots. With his flushed cheeks and the snowflakes melting in his dark hair, he looks like the angel of Christmas sex.
“What’s wrong with your truck?”
“Battery’s dead.” He scans the kitchen. “Have you seen my phone? I thought maybe it fell out of my pocket when Knife Feet jumped me.”
“No. I would’ve given it to you if I found it when I cleaned up.”
