Footsteps approach.
This is it!
“Hello, officer.” Wren’s voice is bright and friendly, with just a touch of breathlessness.
I hold perfectly still under the blanket, every muscle tense. There’s no way they won’t see me. No way this works. If he even glances in the back, I’m toast.
I work at keeping my breathing even.
At the same time, I prepare to fight.
34
Wren
I’ve asked Grim to trust me.
Well, at the same time, I’m trusting him. I’m trusting the things he’s told me. I’m trusting that look I’ve seen in his eyes when he looks at me sometimes.
I’m trusting that he will do as I say and keep very still and quiet.
I turn on the radio, and an upbeat song is playing. I turn it down but leave the music in the background, hoping the Security Forces guy won’t hear Grim.
My fingers work quickly, unbuttoning the top few buttons of the housekeeper’s uniform; I even pull it open a little. Then I adjust my breasts, pushing them up and together so that the girls are on maximum display without being too obvious. Okay, that isn’t true. I’m being plenty obvious. I only hope he doesn’t smell a rat.
Then I undo my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. I run my hand through it, trying to look flustered and sexy at the same time. I lick my lips and take a breath.
The Security Forces officer approaches carefully.
I pull my shoulders back and lean forward a little, so that he gets an eyeful of cleavage. I smile brightly.
“Hello, officer.”
Please look… Please look.
It’s clear from his stature that he’s a shifter, so not one of the men from the Mainland. That’s good. I’m so glad. I think I’ll have a better chance with a shifter. He barely looks at my face before his gaze drops to my breasts, where it stays locked. His eyes actually flare for a moment before he schools his expression.
Yes!
This is good.
“Hi, ma’am,” he says, eyes still glued to my chest. “Didn’t you see me…um…back there?” He’s quite young. Maybe early twenties. This is getting better by the second.
“I’m so, so sorry, officer.” I giggle, and it sounds breathy and a little nervous. Which isn’t hard to fake since Iamnervous. “No, I’m sorry. I’m late for work. My eyes were glued on the road ahead.” Just like his eyes are glued on my chest right now.
He looks up at my face, then back down to my breasts. Up again, then down. He really can’t stop looking at them.
My heart is racing, but I force myself to keep smiling.
“Do you have some form of identification?” he asks, his eyes now trained on my chest.
“I was rushing when I left home and left my purse on the counter,” I explain, letting my voice shake just a little. “Hence, making the U-turn. I needed to get back home to fetch it.”
That makes him look up. His brows draw together. “Oh yeah! You do know that it is illegal to make a U-turn like that?”
He forgot about my U-turn. This is wonderful. It might just work.
I make a face, pouting a little. “I know, but it needed to be quick. I’m going to get into so much trouble with my boss. I’m so late as it is.” I make sure to inject worry into my voice. “I was sure to look both ways. I was careful. I’m sorry. I know it was wrong.” I implore him with my eyes, keeping my shoulders back.
