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Emma fumbled with her key, poked it into the ignition, and turned it. The engine revved and she reversed, careless of Daniel's jump from her car's path. She clamped a hand over her hair to keep it from flying out the open window. All she needed after a long, hard day filled with work was a sexy, possessive, chauvinistic boss who wanted her in his bed.
Gravel spun away from the rear tires as she left the lot. The man reflected in her rear view mirror stood, feet apart, hands braced on lean hips, his smug grin widening.
Emma shook. Her insides barely unknotted as she met the first curve. She took it with a squeal of tires, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. The rear end of her car fishtailed, and when she came out of the curve, a dark green sports car was closely following her. Her mirror caught the flash of white teeth and the sheen of black hair.
The image stayed in the mirror as she drove home and pulled into the driveway. The polished green metal charger slid neatly into place besides hers. The engine's purr died .
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