Holly Sinclair had had quite a bit to drink, and the cold wind that hit her after getting out of Brandon Sterling's car made things worse.
The alcohol was going to her head, making her feel even more dizzy and disoriented.
She fumbled in her bag for her keys and unlocked the door with a trembling hand.
Once inside, she rubbed her aching temple and kicked off her high heels.
At the same time, she reached behind her to close the door.
But her hand landed on a hard, muscular chest.
She whipped her head around.
Her gaze met a pair of black eyes that were as cold as ice.
Tristan Sterling!
"G-get out!"
Holly Sinclair snapped at the man without a second thought.
The alcohol had muddled her mind, making her tongue feel a little twisted.
What was meant to be an angry shout came out sounding more like a flirtatious pout.
At the same time, she reached out to push him.
But she was simply delivering herself into his grasp. He deftly caught her small hand in his large one.
