A Touch Wicked

free to devote your existence to fucking every lonely widow from London to Edinburgh.”

The other woman closed the distance and held out her hand. “I’m Alexandra,” she said, with a grin.

Emma blinked at the extended hand, confused. Was this some kind of… joke? She didn’t really expect her to—

“Handshake,” Alexandra said. “It’s like curtsying, but with less knee-bending.”

she drove her knee up, catching him squarely between the legs. As he doubled over with a choked wheeze, Emma slammed her forehead against the bridge of his nose. Cartilage crunched. Blood splattered against her cheek.

With trembling fingers, Emma nudged the door wider.