"It's me."
Before Georgia Thorne could finish, a voice she knew all too well came from the other end of the line.
Elliot Sheridan had a pleasant voice—deep and magnetic, with the unique, charismatic charm of a mature man.
The name "Elliot Sheridan" was enough to make Georgia Thorne nearly throw her phone away.
It felt scalding hot in her palm. She opened her mouth but had no idea what to say.
She wasn't even sure what to call him.
Elliot Sheridan? Mr. Sheridan? President Sheridan?
It seemed any of those names would make Elliot Sheridan angry.
The one thing Georgia Thorne could never predict was his volatile temper.
After a long pause, Georgia Thorne asked in a dry, hoarse voice, "Where's Selena?"
"What, have you got nothing to say to me? After all, we've shared a bed for so many nights!" Elliot Sheridan's low voice was thick with temptation.
