Her Reluctant Wife: A Lesbian Age Gap Romance

and careful? If she was, was she different with Coralyn? What

exactly had her endgame even been when it came to work, to

life, to this woman?

“I’m sorry if I—shit. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Giana hoped for a smile of reassurance. A flicker in those

sapphire eyes, but there was nothing. Just an impassive face

staring back at her. She looked hard. Not like a woman in love.

Like a woman determined. Like a woman about to be led to

slaughter, a woman who sacrificed. Coralyn had every right to

doubt her, but things were going to be different. Giana wanted

to tell her that. Wanted to take her hand and make promises. It

felt too intimate. She’d be touching someone she felt like she

didn’t even know. But Coralyn knew her. Why was she

hanging back?

“You don’t really seem like a woman who wants to get

married,” Giana said softly.

Her hands curled into the black dress she wore. Black,

flowing, lacy. Expensive as hell. Paired with five-inch heels

because she’d felt naked without them, and her closet was full

of them. Heels in every color, but mostly black. Same with her

clothing. Black to a wedding. Christ, what had she been

thinking?

Coralyn hung her head, exposing the back of her neck. Her

hair was pulled up into a neat bun. Seeing that exposed nape

did something to Giana. It made her whole body tighten. It

made her mouth water. She wanted to do something. It made

her crave something, but she didn’t know what.

“I’m sorry,” Coralyn breathed. “It’s just that, my dad has

slipped into a coma.”

Fuck. Here she was, planning a wedding and doing those