Oh, what was she saying? Why use euphemism? They'd practically just had sex moments before she knocked on the door, and now, if she suspected right, Logan wanted to break up with the silver and he was using Evonne as his outlet. Not so fast, you hot beast. You're not getting away this easy.
Before the silver could do further damage to her eardrums and before her hot temper exploded like a boiling kettle, she threw the bouquet in Logan's face, grabbed both their towels, one in each hand, and yanked them off their bodies, exposing his and her anatomies to the black cat sitting on the fence, birds in the trees, the bees sucking nectar from flowers on the porch, and whoever happened to glimpse them at that moment.
The silvered screamed, the man growled, and Evonne twisted on her heel and ran for her life, sprinting like the devil had taken chase.
Of course, she knew the devil would never come chasing after her in his naked state. But she did stop to catch her breath when she was halfway down the block because her limbs refused to take another step for fear of her lungs collapsing. Wow! Evonne couldn't believe she'd just done that, yanking off their towels like that.
Then she began to laugh—so hard her stomach hurt. Once she managed to calm down, she thought it was a shame she'd been too busy making her escape to see his male glory. Stop thinking stupid thoughts this instant!
What was with her and her sudden fascination with the male anatomy anyway? Was it because her biological clock was ticking, telling her it was almost time for her to start thinking about producing some babies? Good Lord, she wasn't looking forward to her big three-zero.
How was she supposed to make babies if her forbidden door downstairs had yet to be unlocked? And worse yet, where was she supposed to find the right key for her door? A naughty thought ran through her head. Maybe Logan had a secret key to unlock my door.
Then her heart did a little somersault. Ah! She messed up her hair in her thought process. Calm down, my dear heart. She placed her hand upon her chest to stop the thrashing beat of her heart.
Otherwise, she might have gone into cardiac arrest, and there was no hospital near this part of town. Once her heart settled again, her thoughts returned to the silver-haired, Violet blue-eyed Logan.
What was she thinking that he might have the right key for her door? That beast was a playboy, Casanova, who saw women as nothing more than a piece of bacon.
That shaggy dog man-beast, eyeing her like a steak, wanting a piece of her. Well, he wasn't getting a piece, even if this steak was getting old—like tough leather old.
Evonne sighed in defeat. There was no point in sulking over matters like this now. She must call Rina tonight to apologize for the turn of events.
Rina might lose one VIP client, but it was for better because she would want her staff not to be harassed or taken advantage of by that Casanova Logan.
Shelving the thought for later use, Evonne turned to walk back to her car, her shoulders slumping, mentally counting down the days until she would meet her doomsday. But that particular day came faster than she expected.