Yahrah St. John - Miami After Hours

“So did I. Thanks again.” Angela didn’t wait for his response and quickly opened the passenger door. She wasn’t sure what was going on between them, but she wasn’t sticking around to find out.

She was in her car within seconds and was about to pull out when she saw Daniel had rolled down the rear window and was motioning to her. Sighing, Angela lowered the window. “Yes?”

“I’m following you home.”

“I told you that’s not necessary. I’m a big girl.”

“You are, but I’d feel more comfortable, so we’re just going to follow behind you.”

Angela rolled her eyes. She didn’t want Daniel to see where she lived. Her apartment building was ordinary and certainly nothing like the luxury ones they sold. Now he would know that she was merely acting and dressing like she was one of them. He’d see she was a fraud. But she had no choice because he’d already raised his window.

When she arrived at her apartment building thirty minutes later, Daniel was still behind her in the town car. She sighed when he exited the vehicle and turned off the engine.

Oh Lord!

He came around to the driver’s side of her car and opened her door. She exited, but all she could do was stand there, holding on to the door. For what—support? Or to escape back inside so she wouldn’t be faced with the potent magnetism that exuded from Daniel’s every pore?

“You really didn’t have to do this,” she began, but he placed an index finger over her lips. Angela sucked in a deep breath at the light contact.

“I understand why you didn’t want me to come, Angela, but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Daniel glanced up at the building. “Before my parents divorced, I grew up in a middle-class community. It was a far cry from where I live now.”

“Yeah, well, some of us can’t live as upscale as all that,” Angela responded.

“I know that. So be proud of who you are and where you come from.” He reached out and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. Doing so brought his sensual mouth entirely too close to her own. “It’s made you who you are.”

She glanced up at him. And in that moment, she wanted him to kiss her. Oh, how she wanted it. She would instantly surrender if he tried.

Instead his hands moved from her hair to slide across her cheek. “Get inside safe and I’ll see you at the office on Monday. Nine o’clock sharp.”

All Angela could do was nod and walk with leaden feet to the door of her apartment building, feeling as if she’d been kissed even though he’d barely even touched her. And that could only mean one thing. Trouble.

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