“I don’t care who sees us. I want you. Now.” I gave him my most seductive smile and spoke low. “I’ll leave the skirt on for you.”

“Fuck.” He struggled with it for less than three seconds, and then gave in. “Where are we sneaking to?”

I grinned. “My house. I’ll go first.”

“I’ll be two minutes behind—if I can wait that long.”

Turning on my heel, I dashed into the coatroom by the exit, slipped on the wool dress coat I’d borrowed from my mom, and hurried out the doors. The air was icy cold, but it wasn’t snowing and the walkway between the barn and the inn was freshly plowed. Still, I had to force myself to slow down so I wouldn’t catch a heel and stumble.

If I was going to put marks on my knees, it wasn’t going to be because of a slippery sidewalk.

The kick of doing something sexy and subversive coursed through me. I couldn’t ever remember a time in my life when I’d behaved so wantonly or heedlessly. But I didn’t care—at this moment, nothing else mattered to me except how I wanted to feel, and it was so fucking fantastic to have power over that again. I was taking my life back. What better way to say goodbye to the old me and hello to the new?

I turned off the pathway at my parents’ driveway and used the code to open the garage. From there I slipped into the house via the back door, which led right into the mudroom. I left the garage door open, thinking that Henry would come in that way also, but I’d only been inside the kitchen long enough to spot the forgotten bag of sparklers on a kitchen chair when I heard a knock on the front door.

So much for waiting five minutes.

Shrugging off my coat and tossing it on top of the bag, I hurried into the front hall to pull it open. He stood on the porch in his formal clothes like an old-fashioned suitor coming to call, or maybe even my prom date coming to fetch me for the dance.

“Come on in,” I said, moving back so he could step inside.

He shoved the door closed behind him. The hallway was dark and silent. “All alone, little girl?”

I nodded, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs. “My parents aren’t home.”

“Is it wise to invite the teacher into your house at night when your parents aren’t home?”

“Well, I just thought you might want to give me a little private tutoring session. I’m so anxious to be your best student.” I pulled him inside my room and he shut the door. My shades were lowered, but the bedside lamp was on. The light wasn’t bright, but it was enough to see the hungry look in his eyes.