Page 24 of The Twins

I smiled. I wasn’t going to give them all the control even though they’d nearly made me lose mine. “I’ll come find you.” I stepped away. “Thanks for a fun evening.”

They waited until I was in my house, and then I watched from the dark hallway window as they wandered away, heads stooped, deep in conversation.

“Fucking hell.” I ran my hands through my hair and kicked off my heels. “What a night!” It had been a close call. The urge to get naked and down and dirty had nearly been too much to resist.

Finn had been right. His brother was as hot as him. And the sum of the Sullivan twins equaled more than the parts. Together they were a fantasy I hadn’t known I’d had. Sexy, seductive, sharp, edgy, Irish…and their bodies. The thought of them naked, all taut, honed muscles and lightning-fast reflexes had strange quivers of longing tapping around my body.

The house was still and quiet. I went up the stairs, used the bathroom, then flicked on the light in my bedroom.

I froze.

What the fuck is that?

I clasped the doorframe. My mouth dried. My heart rate ramped up to full speed.

Set on my pillow was a single, long-stemmed red rose. Next to it was a note written on familiar red card.

Rushing forward, I grabbed it.

It’s time for pay back, bitch.

Nausea gripped me, and I dropped the note. “What the fuck?”

I spun around. Someone had been here. In my home.

Him!

And he was clearly deranged.

I held my breath. Listening. Was he still here?

Oh fuck!

My pulse thudded in my ears, drowning everything else out. I was terrified, disorientated, furious.

But I didn’t dare risk going back down the stairs. What if he were waiting in the living room to grab me? To stab me. Murder me.

Of all the…oh…I should have had Finn and Cillian come in after all.

Think straight. Think straight.

Okay. The bathroom was my best option, so I rushed in and shut the door, flicked the suddenly woefully flimsy lock. I pulled out my phone and dialed the emergency services.

Nine. Nine. Nine.

“What service do you require?”

“Police, police, please,” I gasped in a shaking voice.

After a few long moments, a female voice. “You’re through to Oxfordshire police, what is your emergency?”

“There is someone in my house. Now. I’m sure of it.” I spoke in a harsh whisper. “They are here.”

“What makes you think that, Miss?”

“They left a threatening note on my bed. I’ve just got home and found it. A rose, too.”

“Are you still in the property?”