Louise saw the strange smile on the man’s face and felt a shiver up her spine. Was he a masochist? Why was he still smiling after she kicked his crotch?
A frown appeared on her pretty face as she wondered if she had prayed too softly for the gods to hear her.
She debated whether to take a step forward or back.
Could she escape if she pretended to not see the man?
Should she hide in the washroom? It was taboo for a man to enter a women’s washroom.
As she weighed her solutions, the man walked right up to the center of the corridor and stood there, blocking her exit.
With one escape route cut off, Louise figured hiding in the women’s washroom was her only option.
She blinked a few times before looking down, a hand clutched at her stomach. As if she was experiencing a stomachache, she mumbled, “Oh! Why is my stomach acting up again?”
She quickly turned and hobbled away.
One step.
Two steps.
For the first time in her life, Louise felt the washroom corridor was too long for its own good. She was aware of the intense gaze on her back—a chill crept up her spine.
Logan ran a hand through his hair as he watched the woman’s antics. He had an amused smile on his face.
What an interesting woman.
With each step she took, her heart sank further. She was one step away from the women’s washroom when she glanced back—the man had not turned into the men’s washroom.
Louise felt her heart leap into her throat. She slowed her steps, worried she would be trapped alone with the man in the washroom. The man might not be as gentlemanly without a crowd as witnesses.
If he followed her into the washroom, there would only be the two of them.
If the man threatened violence, Louise would stand no chance—he was taller and stronger than her.
She had experienced the man’s strength when he arrested her hands earlier on. She had struggled to escape his grasp.
The thought of being overpowered by the man in the empty washroom frightened her. She turned around and shouted at him, “Why are you following me?”
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