Hearing Anya, Marcus knew he couldn't bolt. Truth was, the desire to run was a lie; he wanted to talk to her, to just see her up close.
His heart, which had just settled, kicked back into a frantic rhythm. He turned, nervous, to see Anya smiling and waving at him.
"Marcus, it is you! I thought I recognized you from behind. Where are you off to?"
Confirming it was him, she started walking toward him.
"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. If it isn't the legendary Casanova himself, Marcus Storm."
A cold, sharp, and utterly mocking voice cut through the air from behind Anya. It belonged to Chloe, a woman with a killer figure and a face that was just as beautiful as it was icy.
