she’d finally succeeding in catching Giana off guard. “Don’t
say things like that,” she snapped.
“I think you do, though.” Her hand was still there. So close.
So close to Giana’s deep breaths, her trembling shoulders, her
shaking h
ands.
“No.”
“Well, I do, then.” She wanted to reach out that final inch,
but Giana stepped back again, and she tucked her hand back at
her side, feeling foolish. She’d just been denied. Again. How
much clearer could Giana make things?
“I can’t afford a distraction.”
“But you want one anyway.” Why was she still pushing and
pleading? Why couldn’t she just sign the papers and walk
away? She was butting up against the same wall she’d hit the
night of the wedding. The necklace in her pocket was a thin
excuse. Why hadn’t she been able to walk out the door? Why
had she kept coming back after? Why had she returned to
Giana every single time?
Giana ground her teeth together. Her hands balled into
frustrated fists before she reached up and raked one through
her glossy, flat ironed hair. It looked so much better that way,
mussed and less than perfect. Something broke with a loud
snap. Something invisible but forceful.
“You’ve stolen my good sense, my peace, and my sanity
these past few weeks.” She prowled towards Coralyn, her
whole attitude changed. She’d made her decision. She was
going back on the offensive. The room crackled with energy,
with sensual desire. She stopped so close that Coralyn’s arm
hairs rose in response to the pull of electricity. All of her was