As soon as the call ended—and before her emotions could turn into something inconvenient like sulking—Danica tapped Alfred's name as if it was a panic button.
The ring hardly went for two seconds, and he immediately picked up the call. The screen flickered to white before settling on his face—his devastatingly handsome face that broke into a lazy, crooked smile the second he saw her.
Danica's breath got stuck in her throat for one hot second.
That one smile (infectious, sweet, and devilish) did so many things to her that she couldn't name.
He shifted slightly, angling the phone and stepping back just enough to give her a fuller view—and her eyes widened instinctively.
Holy hell.
He was shirtless.
