07

Isabella

My phone beeped on the dressing table and a message came in. It was him. I was to meet him in two hours, chills went up my spine as I thought of him. His beautiful eyes, the construction of his face, and the way his hands touched me last night.

Snap out of it Isabella! I cautioned myself mentally.

He was no more than a stranger. I shouldn't let what happened repeat itself. I grabbed my phone from the dressing table before I went to search for a decent and suitable outfit to meet Damien.

After what seemed like forever, I ended up with a black velvet dress. It decently covered the upper part of my body, but showed no mercy to my figure. It traced out every line and curve of my body not to talk of the dangerous slit that laid on my thighs.

I fixed my face and brushed my hair. I let my hair fall on my shoulders. I wore a simple block heel. I grabbed my bag and my card before I checked myself one last time in the mirror and left. The cab stopped outside the hotel instead of the ga